How the Mighty Have Fallen
by MistakenMagic
Summary: "Despite the blade grazing his skin, Clint smirked. "You gonna kill me, Tasha?" he murmured." Post-Avengers Assemble. Clint/Natasha heading towards Loki/Natasha.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Not exactly canon, but the thought of writing this got me through this year's exams!**

_Natasha moved so fast that not even she, let alone anyone else, could register her movements. In an instant she had Clint pinned against the glass, her knife at his throat. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears, her chest rose and fell rapidly, and hot, angry tears began forming in the corners of her eyes, which were fixed on Clint's. Nobody moved and the only sound was Loki's distressed panting. _

_Despite the blade grazing his skin, Clint smirked. "You gonna kill me, Tasha?" he murmured._

Two Weeks Earlier...

Natasha skidded into the hangar, still trying to hastily zip up her jacket, and found the jet waiting for her. "This better be good," she muttered to herself, quickly brushing away a damp curl of red hair from her forehead. She cursed her stupidity for ever believing that the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. would let her have one early night.

"Nice of you to join us, Agent Romanoff," Agent Hill said, without turning as Natasha boarded the jet. Fury's right-hand woman was sitting up front with Clint, preparing for take-off.

Natasha did a double-take when she saw Dr. Banner sitting to her right. She took a seat next to him and strapped herself in. Tony, Thor, and Steve were sitting opposite them; the God of Thunder was looking unusually pale, staring blankly into his lap, with his prized hammer standing forgotten between his feet.

"Busy were we?" Tony said with a grin, drawing Natasha's gaze away from Thor.

"I was in the shower, OK?" she snapped, her hand jumping self-consciously to her hair. The jet's engines roared into life as they began taxiing towards the other end of the hangar.

"Thanks for the mental image," Tony replied, his grin only widening.

Shooting him one of her signature death glares, Natasha turned back to Thor. "What's happened?"

"We've found Loki," came the answer from Agent Hill.

Natasha's stomach gave an uncomfortable jolt, and she swallowed, trying to rid herself of the sudden feelings of nausea. Six weeks ago, a group of Chitauri, who had somehow survived the nuclear missile, broke into Loki's Asgardian prison cell and disappeared with him. All the hours of searching, by Asgardians and Avengers alike, failed to recover Loki... And he was presumed dead in some dark, forgotten corner of the universe.

"Where?" Natasha whispered, only able to manage the one syllable.

"New Mexico," Agent Hill answered. "It's turning into quite the alien drop-off hot-spot."

With Thor looking like he was on the verge of a nervous break-down, Natasha wasn't sure she appreciated the agent's tone, but she let it slip. Turning to Bruce, she found him rummaging around in a black duffel bag at his feet which was stuffed to the brim with medical supplies. "He's alive?"

Bruce looked up. "Only just," he said solemnly. "I'm going to need your help, Natasha."

Natasha's stomach gave another jolt in protest. A few years ago she had taken a break from S.H.I.E.L.D. to train as a nurse in a military hospital in Afghanistan – another way to wipe the red from her ledger. Thinking of the wounded soldiers, and then thinking of Loki, who was quite literally out of this world, she wasn't sure they were transferable skills. The look on Bruce's face told her he was thinking something similar; she tried to give him an encouraging smile, but failed miserably.

The jet finished its taxiing, and the roof of the hangar directly above gave way with a mechanical clunk, revealing the Manhattan skyline, scattered with stars. As the jet began its ascent, Stark Tower came into view – newly refurbished after its almost-destruction two months ago. The four missing letters of its moniker had been returned, and Tony had welcomed its appointment as the new Avengers Head Quarters. Everyone watched as the blur of bright primary colours that was New York City disappeared below a blanket of cloud.

"Where's Fury?" Natasha asked, a blush creeping into her cheeks; she was aware that she seemed to be the only one speaking, and that everyone else who had boarded the jet on time had clearly already been filled in.

"Already there," Agent Hill said curtly.

Yep, Natasha thought, this is my punishment for wanting an early night. She looked across to Clint, hoping for just the hint of a comforting smile or glance, but he was busy with the jet's controls. No one seemed to be in the mood for talking – even the usually loud and obnoxious Tony Stark... who had pulled out a copy of _TIME_ Magazine which just so happened to have his face on the cover. Steve was lost in his own thoughts, Thor kept his head bowed, and Bruce was still sorting through his duffel bag. It was going to be a long ride.

The cross-country flight only took forty minutes, but to Natasha it felt like a life-time. Peering out of the window, she saw nothing but black; they must be getting close. Steve had tried to make awkward small talk, and Agent Hill occasionally commented on the flying conditions. In an attempt to ease her mounting nerves, Natasha had asked a reluctant Bruce to brief her on the medical equipment he'd gathered to treat a fallen god. Thor was yet to say a word.

The awkward silences only made Natasha want to ask more questions. Why had the Chitauri chosen to abandon Loki on Earth? Why did Fury expect her and Bruce to treat him, and not better-trained S.H.I.E.L.D. medics? And if Loki really was 'only just' alive, why was everyone suited up? This last question preyed on Natasha until she could hold her tongue no longer.

"Why are we suited up? Surely Loki's not a threat if he's half-dead?"

Thor looked up for the first time, his expression pained. She heard Clint stifle a chuckle. "Erm... This is the guy who almost flattened Manhattan two months ago. You forget that, Tasha?"

Natasha bristled at Clint's sarcasm, wishing she didn't feel so hurt by his comment; she thought she was tougher than that. "No, but –"

"Doesn't matter what sorry state he's in, the guy's still a psychopath!"

Thor let out a low growl and reached for Mjolnir, but Steve put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Thor... Wanna keep your opinions to yourself, Clint?"

Clint turned around and began to reply when Agent Hill said softly but dangerously: "Eyes on the road, Agent Barton – we're almost there."

Steve stared Clint down until he reluctantly turned back to his control panel. Thor's gaze returned to his lap, and Tony made a point of turning his magazine page very loudly with a sigh. Lights suddenly appeared in the left hand windows, too large and yellow for stars.

"This is it," Agent Hill announced, and Natasha's stomach did another flip. As the jet began a steady descent, Thor suddenly ripped off his seatbelt and leapt up.

"Dude, the seatbelt sign hasn't even been switched off yet!" Tony said, stashing away his TIME Magazine.

"Not the time, Tony," Steve groaned, also unbuckling, and grabbing his shield.

One by one, the Avengers followed suit. Bruce hauled the black duffel bag onto his shoulder and handed Natasha a matching messenger bag. She took it without a word as the jet landed. The rear doors hadn't fully opened when Thor lunged forward and scrambled out. There were several shouts of "THOR!" as the rest of the Avengers piled out of the jet, trying to match the god's frantic gallop. They saw the bright lights of what they assumed was the 'crash' site a few hundred yards ahead, surrounded as it was by armoured vehicles and helicopters bearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo.

"LOKI!" Thor half-shrieked, suddenly taking flight towards the site.

"Thor...NO!" Bruce panted, vainly attempting to sprint after him. "Tony, stop him! Don't let him man-handle Loki!"

With a nod Tony disappeared in a flash of red and yellow. Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Steve, and Agent Hill, running after him, saw the collision as Tony tackled Thor mid-flight and slammed him to the ground. Oh great, Natasha thought, I can't patch up one god, let alone two! Thor threw Tony off him and, abandoning his hammer completely, staggered towards the small crowd of agents that were crouched or kneeling around something a few feet away. He pushed two of them roughly aside and Natasha caught a glimpse of a... body.

"Tony!" Bruce yelled in frustration.

Tony scrambled to his feet and got to Thor just before his hands reached for his brother. The God of Thunder let out a strangled howl as Tony wrestled him back. Hearing Thor's cries, Natasha wondered why Bruce didn't want him gathering his brother in his arms... Surely Loki's injuries couldn't be _that_ bad? They reached Thor and Tony, the agents stood up to let them past, and Natasha had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop herself crying out. It was worse than she'd ever imagined.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has added this to their story alerts and favourites, and to everyone who has left me such lovely reviews – you have no idea how happy you've made me!**

The body laid out on the ground in front of Natasha was almost unrecognisable. Loki's face was a cross-hatch of cuts and bruises; a deep gash ran from his left eyebrow into his hair, caking half his forehead in dried blood. Another sliced his nose almost in two, and his bottom lip was purpled and swollen. His tunic and pants had been slashed into ragged strips of blood-blackened fabric that peeled off his body as if he were shedding a second skin. His right arm and thigh were covered in red burns which darkened into a charred, crackled black at their centre. Yet it was Loki's left hand that turned Natasha's stomach the most; marbled purple and grey with bruising, its broken fingers branched out at sickeningly odd angles. Natasha was sure they were too late.

Bruce dropped to his knees at her side and, placing two fingers beneath Loki's jaw, felt for a pulse. After one agonisingly long moment, he whispered: "I've got a pulse... It's weak, but it's there." He then looked incredulously around at the crowd of agents. "You couldn't have put an IV line in? Given the guy some oxygen? What's wrong with you?"

The agents exchanged nervous glances until the mousey-haired woman to Natasha's left answered: "Director Fury told us not to touch him."

Bruce stared wildly back at her. "Oh, he did, did he?"

"Yes, I did." The agents suddenly parted as Nick Fury strode forward, his one visible eye burning into Bruce. "What's the situation, Doctor?" His voice was calm but careful.

Bruce produced a pen torch from his shirt pocket and, gently opening Loki's lids one by one, shone it into the god's vacant green eyes. "Pupils fixed and dilated," he replied, his voice strained. "Severe burns... broken fingers... numerous lacerations..." He grimly surveyed Loki's beaten, bloodied form. "Some of these wounds look infected, and there's likely to be internal bleeding and neural trauma."

Natasha was sure she heard Clint mutter something about Bruce's last comment. Luckily Thor was too distracted to notice.

"I can't do anything here," Bruce said finally.

"Then let's get him moved to the jet. I'm having supplies sent to your quarters at Stark Tower," Fury said, about to turn away.

"Stark Tower? My Quarters?" Bruce snapped, straightening up. "It's a laboratory, not an ER! ...And I'm not even a real doctor!"

Natasha saw a vein twitch in Bruce's temple. She shared his anger and confusion, but didn't think this was the time or the place to be challenging Fury. She put a hand on his arm. "Bruce, we'll manage."

"Like Agent Romanoff, I have every faith in you, Dr. Banner," Fury said quietly. "Anything you need, S.H.I.E.L.D. will provide it."

Bruce stared at Fury, and Fury simply stared back. Natasha was sure Bruce was trying to think of a fitting retort, but time was no longer on their side. "Bruce, we need to move."

For a split second she thought he would turn on her too, but instead he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, when he opened them again he wore an almost unnerving look of determination. "OK, we need a trolley, and we need to get him on the jet as quickly and safely as possible." With one nod from Fury, two agents appeared wheeling a trolley, and everyone moved so they could line it up parallel with Loki. "Natasha, support his head, everybody else – grab a corner. We need to lift him onto the trolley – no hesitations."

Natasha moved behind Bruce to Loki's head. Tony, Steve, Thor, and a reluctant Clint crowded around Loki, and in three they had him on the trolley, though the strained and surprised expressions of everyone involved told Natasha that they too had noticed the lean god's curiously heavy weight.

Bruce laid a blanket over Loki, arranging it with care so that his burns were left exposed. Clint and Agent Hill ran ahead to get the jet ready for take-off, and Bruce, Natasha, Steve, and Thor followed, beginning a jog with the trolley as they wheeled it towards the jet, leaving behind the bright lights of the crash site, and Fury with it. The director stood and watched the Avengers disappear into the black horizon of the night, which was broken only by the jet's flickering red lights.

No one spoke as the team closed in on the jet, but Natasha was sure everyone was aware that Thor was crying. And part of her wanted to cry too, for the whole crazy situation; she couldn't believe that only an hour ago she had been preparing for a much-needed early night... Now she wasn't sure if she would ever see her bed again.

-o0o-

"Natasha, I need you to insert an IV line," Bruce said quickly, without looking up as he fitted an oxygen mask over Loki's nose and mouth.

The trolley was clamped to the floor of the jet. No one, except Agent Hill and Clint, had bothered to sit down and belt up; they were all standing around Loki's bed. Take-off had been a chaotic affair; with the jet's movements, they had all been forced to cling to each other or the bed to stay upright. Natasha had thanked whatever god or gods were up there that Tony had made no smart-ass remarks when she grabbed his arm because the jet gave a sudden jolt.

Now, rooting through Bruce's duffel bag behind her, she retrieved everything she needed. Trying desperately to keep her hands steady, Natasha inserted the IV line – amateurly, but affectively. She was relieved when she managed it - it being almost three years since she'd last done an IV line. So maybe it was just like riding a bike; you never forget.

"Can I help?" Tony asked, appearing at her side.

Natasha thrust the fluid bag into his chest. "Yeah, you can be our make-shift drip."

"I'll be the best damn drip you ever saw!" Tony said, with a mock salute, holding the fluid bag aloft like it was the Olympic torch.

Natasha gave him a small smile as she moved around him to join Bruce at the opposite side of the bed. The doctor was hooking up a slightly battered-looking monitor which was balanced precariously to the left of Loki's head. Bruce pressed a few buttons and it whirred into life; Loki's heartbeat appeared as the occasional green mountain on the screen as the monitor began a steady beeping.

Bruce reached for Loki's mangled left hand and lifted it gently, furrowing his brow. "They didn't just beat him up," he whispered. "They tortured him."

"Why didn't they just kill him?" Natasha asked in the same hushed tone.

"Why don't we just let him die?" Clint shouted from the front of the jet.

Thor lunged towards him, but Steve was ready for it and held him back. Clint turned around, looking amused by Thor's reaction, and his expression made Natasha's skin crawl. "No, seriously, are we all just forgetting what Loki's done? He killed Coulson, he tried to take over the planet and –"

"Loki was nothing but a pawn in the Chitauri's games," Thor replied, his voice low and dangerous as he shrugged Steve off. "They preyed upon his mind just as much as he preyed upon yours... And he has paid the price for it."

"So Coulson's life, all those people, are only worth a few broken fingers?" Clint shot back.

"It's a little more than that, Clint," Bruce commented, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he examined the burns on Loki's arm.

"Whatever, Doc, I still say–"

But Clint was silenced by the high-pitched scream of the monitor... Loki's heart had stopped beating.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** **The beginning of this chapter took forever to write, but once I got started I couldn't stop, so here's a longer chapter. Also, another HUGE thank you to everyone who has added this to their alerts, and to all my reviewers – you guys are unbelievably awesome!**

"NO!" Thor bellowed, rushing forward and reaching for his brother's hand, almost knocking Natasha to the floor.

Natasha swore loudly in Russian and Bruce joined her with the English equivalent. "Thor, take a step back!" he barked, and began CPR chest compressions as the bewildered god moved aside, a strangled cry caught in his throat. "Natasha, bag him!"

Pouncing on Bruce's duffel bag, Natasha started rooting through the assortment of medical supplies in a frantic search for the bag valve mask. The piercing shriek of the monitor cut right through her, and the panic only made her hands feel lead-heavy as her heart threw itself against her ribcage.

"Natasha!" Bruce cried desperately.

"I can't find –!" Natasha stopped when she discovered the BVM lodged in the corner of the bag. Grabbing it, she whirled around and, ripping away Loki's oxygen mask, clamped it over his nose and mouth. Steadying herself, she began squeezing air into the god's lifeless lungs.

The monitor was still screaming as Bruce continued his vigorous chest compressions, not missing a beat as the sweat slid down his face. Tony was standing as still as the drip he was replacing, holding the fluid bag at head height. Thor hovered behind Bruce with a look of anguish marring his handsome features, his eyes shining with fresh tears. No one spoke, and all eyes were on the monitor where a thin green line raced across the screen, unbroken by any signs of life.

"OK, we need to shock him," Natasha said, after another long minute with Loki's heart still failing. "Where's the defibrillator?"

"I didn't bring one!" Bruce panted. "I didn't think we'd need –" He let the sentence trail off as the reality of the situation hit Natasha with full force... They were at least half an hour away from the life-saving equipment they needed, and they were out of options.

Bruce persevered with his compressions, but after several minutes without success, he turned to Thor. No words were needed, and he read everything in the doctor's grave expression.

"No... NO! You can't stop... Please!" Thor begged, his voice breaking. "Please... You have to keep going!"

The pain in Thor's voice as it cracked was enough for Natasha to make a split-second decision. "Bruce, let me take over."

Bruce looked hopelessly from Thor to Natasha, but finally nodded, and they switched places. Placing one hand on top of the other and interlocking her fingers, Natasha began the chest compressions, throwing her whole body weight into each compression. Gritting her teeth, she kept count in her head. One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Ever conscious of Thor standing behind her, disconsolate and distraught, she couldn't help but will Loki's heart to start beating again. "Come on, Loki," she whispered, and as it seemed to help, she said it again louder: "Come on, Loki!"

She felt the sweat prickling beneath her hair, and her arms began to ache, but some unknown force spurred her on. Perhaps it was her love for Thor, perhaps it was her nurse's instinct... Whatever it was, something inside her was desperate to bring Loki back from the brink, and she was determined not to stop until she had.

Suddenly the screaming stopped and was replaced by a soft, intermittent beeping. Natasha's head snapped up in shock, and she was greeted by the sight of the green line zig-zagging into mountains once more across the monitor's screen.

"We've got a rhythm," Bruce announced, laughing with relief. "Well done, Natasha!"

Exhaling for what seemed to be the first time in minutes, Natasha straightened up, her heart still racing. Brushing her hair out of her face, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She turned to Thor, whose tears had become those of joy.

"You just saved my brother's life," he said quietly, with a smile. "Thank you."

And Natasha smiled too, wondering if, in some strange way, she had just wiped a little more red from her ledger.

-o0o-

Bruce's laboratory and living quarters took up the entirety of Stark Tower's eighth floor. The laboratory's fourth wall, which looked onto the corridor, was made entirely of clear glass with automatic doors at one end. The elevator stood at the opposite end of the corridor, and with a three-note jingle, its doors slid open, revealing the team clustered around Loki's trolley. As they wheeled Loki down the corridor towards the lab's doors, Natasha kept trying to catch Clint's eye. She was grateful to him for not saying a word whilst they were reviving Loki, but now he refused to meet her gaze. She was sure he wished her attempts hadn't succeeded, and that thought made her unconsciously bunch her free hand into a fist.

Peering into Bruce's laboratory to her right, Natasha saw that the benches and tables had been pushed against the walls to make space for a hospital bed, placed at the room's centre. A host of large cardboard boxes, stamped in red with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo, were stacked into a neat pyramid in one corner.

"Fury wasn't kidding," Bruce murmured to Natasha, as they reached the automatic doors, which opened with a faint hiss to admit them.

Lining the trolley up with the bed, the team carefully transferred Loki across. Bruce went to move the trolley aside, but bumped into Steve and Thor, and Natasha almost tripped over Tony, who was still holding his fluid bag, when she tried to rearrange Loki's blanket.

"OK, anybody who is not going to be of use to me needs to leave the lab, now!" Bruce said sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Steve," Tony said, pointing towards the door.

Steve took a step towards Tony, but Agent Hill moved in front of him. "Captain, Mr. Stark, Agent Barton, and Thor – with me, we need to brief Director Fury."

"I will not leave my brother's bedside," Thor said firmly, placing a hand on Loki's arm to make his point.

"And I'm the drip!" Tony chimed in, waggling the fluid bag at Agent Hill.

The agent looked to Bruce for help. "I could use Tony," Bruce admitted. "And of course Thor can stay."

Agent Hill nodded, though she shot Tony a look of disapproval. "Very well, Agent Barton, Captain, let's go."

Clint, who had moved towards Natasha, brushed her fingers with his. "I'll see you soon," he whispered, before following Agent Hill and Steve out of the lab, back down the corridor. Natasha watched him leave; she was relieved that he had spoken to her, but her stomach still squirmed when she thought of the way he had smiled at Thor on the jet. In fact, his whole behaviour tonight bothered her...

"I don't believe it." Natasha turned away from the glass to find Bruce opening one of the boxes. "Fury sent us scrubs!"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the pale blue shirt Bruce was holding up. "I'm not wearing that."

"What's the matter, Natasha?" Tony said, with a grin. "Not up for a bit of _Grey's Anatomy_ cosplay...? Maybe not _Grey's Anatomy_ – bit too morbid. _Scrubs_! _Scrubs_ is funnier... For some reason I've always felt an affinity with Dr. Cox..."

Natasha had no idea what Tony was talking about, and trying to follow him was giving her a headache. "I don't suppose there's an actual drip stand in one of those boxes, is there, Doc?" she said, looking pointedly at Tony.

Bruce pulled out a long, narrow package from the pile and opened it. "Found one – sorry, Tony." He wheeled the metal stand to Tony's side and held his hand out for the fluid bag, which Tony reluctantly relinquished, so he could fix up the drip. The doctor then turned back to the collection of boxes, looking troubled.

"What is it, Bruce?" Natasha asked, following his gaze.

"I need to x-ray Loki's hand and his chest – his ribs made some ominous sounds whilst we were resuscitating him... And I don't think anything in these boxes can help us with that."

"I've got something."

Bruce and Natasha turned to Tony, both wearing the same quizzical expression.

"No, seriously, I invented a portable x-ray generator a couple of years back – next to no harmful radiation, just like taking a photograph."

"OK," Bruce answered slowly, clearly sceptical. "Can you go get it for us?"

"Sure, but you need to have a little more faith in me, Doc!" Tony replied, having obviously picked up on Bruce's cynicism. With that, he disappeared from the lab.

Thor had been standing at Loki's bedside the entire time, arms folded across his chest, silently watching the proceedings. Natasha felt guilty about her and Bruce's exchanges with Tony – perhaps they were all still giddy from the adrenaline rush that came with their successful resuscitation, but Thor didn't seem to mind. Natasha had had to deal with so many hysterical soldiers watching their comrades being treated, that she couldn't deny she was thankful for Thor's composure.

Surveying Loki's broken body, she suddenly felt overwhelmed by the task now ahead of her. Rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on Loki's bloodied face, she pictured the god slamming his fist against the glass of his holding cell, pushing his face into hers, and threatening her death... And she'd just saved his life.

"The irony isn't lost on any of us, Natasha," Bruce said quietly, as if reading her thoughts.

For some reason this comforted Natasha, and she managed to snap herself out of her paralysis. "What do you need me to do?"

"If you could suture the laceration on his forehead, that would be great – there's a kit on the bench behind you."

Finding the kit and pulling up a stool, Natasha began to gently wipe away the blood from Loki's face, revealing the god's pale skin, and making him look just that little bit more human... if that was the right word for it. Bruce removed Loki's oxygen mask and fitted a nasal cannula in its place, he then started tending to the burns on Loki's arm. The pair worked in an easy silence, though they were ever aware of Thor's gaze.

"Why us?" Natasha asked, when she had finished her stitches. It was a question she had been mulling over since the jet's take off, and she hoped that Bruce somehow had the answer.

"I think we were the only ones who would take the job," Bruce replied, after a thoughtful pause.

"We didn't have a choice."

"Exactly."

Natasha was about to reply when Tony, newly de-suited, reappeared in the corridor, wheeling something towards the doors. He entered the lab, pushing what Natasha thought looked like an old high school projector; the kind a Biology teacher would use to show their students microscope slides - not that she ever went to that class. "Impressive," she commented slyly.

Tony ignored her and positioned the curious contraption next to Loki's bed. Switching it on, the generator made a few loud beeps and began a steady hum. Pinching something between finger and thumb, Tony drew out an invisible string from the machine. When he opened his fingers a semi-transparent blue screen appeared, hovering in mid-air above Loki's bed. OK, Natasha thought, I take it back – I'm impressed.

"Natasha, if you would do the honours," Tony said, gesturing to Loki's injured hand.

Natasha cautiously moved Loki's hand across to the generator and placed it on the glass square at its centre. Tony pressed a few buttons, and without warning, a blinding flash of white light filled the room. Natasha instinctively shielded her eyes with her hand. "Tony! Warn us next time!" she gasped, a triplicate of bright blue squares spotting her vision when she blinked. An x-ray of Loki's hand appeared on the screen in front of them.

"How many bones are broken?" Bruce asked, without looking up, still busy with Loki's burns.

Natasha, Tony, and Thor all stared at the screen in shock. "All of them," Tony said finally.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! I've been ridiculously busy this week – people may joke about English majors having blank timetables, but I've been living under a mountain of Poetry Society paperwork whilst also working backstage at a production of We Will Rock You. I have, however, somehow found the time to write this chapter. Another big thank you to all my readers, and I hope you like this!**

Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen suspended over Loki's bed, Bruce felt in his shirt pocket for his glasses. Slipping them on, he narrowed his eyes at the x-ray. Tony was right; every single bone in Loki's fingers bore at least one ominous black line which indicated a break. He looked to Natasha, she caught his eye and opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words.

"Christ," Tony muttered. It was only one word, but it seemed to somehow sum up everyone's reaction.

Natasha couldn't tear her eyes away from the x-ray and the sickly feeling in her stomach returned; she could tell by the position and cleanness of each break that it had been done with a calculated, almost mechanical precision. So this was what Bruce meant by torture. Finally looking away, Natasha cleared her throat in an effort to end the stunned silence. "Bruce? What should we do?"

Bruce studied Loki's hand, his brow furrowed. "OK, I need to reset the bones or Loki's going to lose his fingers. Thor, I need you to... Thor?"

The God of Thunder had been staring at the x-ray, a troubled, distant look in his eyes, and seemed to be unaware anyone had spoken. Bruce put a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. "Sorry... What is it, Doctor?" he asked quietly.

Natasha could tell by Bruce's expression that he was concerned, but he didn't comment. "Whilst I'm resetting your brother's fingers I need you to hold him down. I don't think he'll regain consciousness, but just in case."

Natasha couldn't help but admire Bruce's gentle, caring tone, and although his referring directly to Loki as Thor's brother surprised her, she was glad he had as it seemed to make Thor focus. Bruce turned to a cupboard behind him and began hunting through the shelves for something. "Natasha, could you find me some bandages? And Tony, can you please wheel the table in the corner, the one with the lamp, over to Loki's left?"

Tony went to fetch the table without a word, and Natasha, too, went silently to Bruce's black duffel bag as she remembered seeing bandages in there earlier. Crouching by it, she pulled out several rolls of bandages and returned to Loki's bedside to find Bruce laying out five metal splints on the table Tony had wheeled over.

Bruce flicked the lamp on and held up one of the splints. "I'll do it one finger at a time – reset the bones, use the splint to hold the finger in place and fasten it with the bandages," he explained. "Tony, could you zoom in on the x-ray? We'll start with the little finger."

Tapping the hovering screen, Tony spread his finger and thumb, magnifying the x-ray of Loki's little finger. Bruce nodded to Thor, and the god very cautiously took hold of his brother's shoulders, holding him down. Natasha was ready with the metal splint and bandages, and Bruce carefully lifted Loki's finger. "OK, here we go." In one swift movement, Bruce snapped the first bone back into place, and there was a sickening crack as he did which made Natasha wince. Bruce checked the x-ray again, then quickly reset the second bone with another awful crack.

"One down," Bruce breathed, as Natasha handed him the splint. He lined it up with Loki's finger, wrapping it tightly in bandages.

Thor had refused to watch; he stared down into his brother's bloodied face, looking as pale and agitated as he had on the jet. Even though he couldn't see what they were doing, Natasha knew he could hear the sounds of Loki's bones being repositioned.

"Next one," Bruce said; Tony's cue to zoom the x-ray in on the second finger.

Just as Bruce was about to begin, Thor let go of Loki's shoulders. "I... I'm sorry... I can't!" Thor staggered back and looked around wildly for an escape, his vision blurred by tears. His eyes settled on the door to his left which led to Bruce's lounge, and he ran towards it, not looking back as the automatic doors slid open to admit him.

"Thor!" Natasha called after him as the doors closed. "Tony, take over," she said quickly, shoving the metal splints and bandages into Tony's hands, before following Thor into the lounge.

She found him fretfully pacing up and down by the room's windows, wringing his hands. He looked like he was on the verge of smashing his fist through a wall, and she was glad he had left Mjolnir in the corner of the laboratory. He looked up when she came in, but didn't say anything. "Thor, come sit down," she said softly, and the god let her lead him to one of the sofas. Sitting down, with Natasha perching next to him, Thor leaned forward and, burying his face in his hands, began to sob.

Natasha had never seen Thor break down like this before, and at first she was too stunned to react. But then instinct kicked in, and she began to rub his back, making soothing shushing sounds, as his shoulders shook with each cry. Believing no words would suffice, she continued to silently rub his back until he quietened.

Eventually Thor straightened up; his blue eyes were red and bloodshot. "Have you any idea how much force... how much malicious intent, it would take to do something like that to someone like Loki... to my brother?" he asked, his voice breaking on the last word. "An Asgardian's bones do not break so easily."

Struggling to find the right words, Natasha took Thor's hand and grasped it tightly. "I'm so sorry, Thor," she whispered. "I'm so sorry this has happened."

At first Thor seemed to take some comfort in this, but then he leapt up with a growl. "The Chitauri will pay for what they have done!"

Natasha jumped up and stood in front of Thor to stop him pacing again... and punching his fist through a wall. "No! Thor, listen to me... Now isn't the time for vengeance. We _will_ find the Chitauri who did this, but right now your brother needs you, and you should focus on being there for him, OK?"

Thor stared at Natasha, shocked by the power and passion in her voice. "Yes," he murmured, after a pause to regain himself. "You're right, I should go to him."

Natasha and Thor reappeared in the laboratory just as Bruce finished bandaging Loki's thumb. Despite the metal splints and bandages, his hand looked so much better. Bruce and Tony looked up, unsure of what to say.

"Can we give them a moment, please?" Natasha asked quietly.

"Of course," Bruce answered, carefully moving Loki's bandaged hand back to his side.

Tony shut down the generator and the screen vanished without a sound. Natasha stayed in the doorway; Bruce and Tony came to join her. Thor went to Loki's bedside, and pulled up a stool. As the lounge doors closed behind her, Natasha saw Thor sit down and clasp Loki's uninjured hand in both his own.

-o0o-

It was approaching four o'clock in the morning when Pepper Potts appeared in the laboratory corridor. Bruce and Natasha had just finished strapping up Loki's ribs which were, as Bruce had suspected, broken. Pepper entered the lab carrying two large, steaming mugs. "I thought you guys could use some coffee," she said, handing them over.

Natasha warmed her hands on the mug, inhaling the rich fumes with a sigh. "Thanks, Pepper."

"What are you doing up so late?" Bruce asked, taking a grateful gulp of his coffee.

"Oh, well the, er, _incident_ last month left us with quite a bit of paperwork which His Royal Starkness thinks himself above," she explained. "And I work better at night."

Tony had left the lab a couple of hours ago when Bruce and Natasha had started removing the bloodied strips of clothing to make Loki more comfortable. He said it was his cue to leave before thing 'got weird'.

Pepper turned to Loki, her eyes widening. "Wow, Tony said it was bad but..." She noticed Loki's heavily bandaged hand. "Oh, now I get it." Bruce and Natasha looked at her questioningly. "Tony was referring to Loki as 'Edward Scissorhands' when he came back from the lab," she admitted. "What did they do to him?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Only Loki can tell us that," Bruce replied. "But his injuries have given us a pretty good idea."

"And Thor?"

Natasha suddenly realised she hadn't seen Thor since they started on Loki's ribs. "Wait... Where_ is_ Thor?"

Bruce looked at her sheepishly. "I may have slipped a sedative into the tea I gave him... He's asleep on my couch."

Natasha and Pepper wore the same bemused expression, raising their eyebrows in unison.

"What? You saw the state he was getting himself into – he was going to end up in a bed next to his brother!"

"OK, but maybe you shouldn't make a habit of drugging the God of Thunder," Natasha replied, yawning. She clapped her hand over her mouth, blushing. "Sorry!"

"No, Natasha, it's fine – you should go get some sleep," Bruce said. "I don't want you dead on your feet."

"I'm OK," Natasha protested. "The coffee will kick in."

But Bruce wasn't having any of it. "Please, Natasha, you've done more than enough tonight. Get some rest."

"What if Loki crashes again?"

"I can help," Pepper offered. "Seriously, I've had some basic medical training – occupational hazard of having a bionic boyfriend."

"Alright," Natasha sighed, putting her coffee down on the bench behind her. "But contact me if anything happens."

"Don't worry, I won't let you miss any of the fun," Bruce said, with a smile.

Wishing Bruce and Pepper goodnight, Natasha left the lab, giving Loki one last glance as she headed down the corridor towards the elevator. She rode the elevator down to the fourth floor, and the exhaustion finally arrived as she reached her room. Walking in, she flicked on the lights, and her heart missed a beat. Clint was lying in her bed, face down with limbs akimbo like a murder victim. She would have checked his pulse if he hadn't been snoring into her pillow. With a sigh, Natasha turned the lights back off. Too tired to undress, she kicked off her boots and climbed into bed next to Clint. She was asleep within a minute.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I passed all my second year exams, so here is a celebratory chapter! Loki actually has a few lines in this one. Yeah, I realise this is a Loki fic and he doesn't appear until Chapter 2, and doesn't get a line until Chapter 5 – I know how to treat my men! – but thank you everyone for your patience and continued support! **

"Nurse Romanoff! We need you over here!"

"I'm a little busy!" Natasha shouted in reply. Her tweezers were poised at the ready, about to pluck the last shard of shrapnel from Lieutenant Foster's thigh.

"Natasha, NOW!" Colonel Bailey barked, and she heard his heavy-booted thud approaching her station.

"God dammit!" she cursed, and yanked out the shrapnel with more force than was necessary. "Sorry, Sam," she whispered as she dropped the chunk of metal into the Petri dish at her side.

Standing up, she found the Colonel waiting for her. Without a word she followed him to another bed which was surrounded by a crowd of nurses and soldiers. The blood slowly dripping to the floor, forming an ominous dark red puddle around the bed, told her this could be nothing good. She pushed her way through the throng of people to get a look at the patient... and clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. Loki was lying on the bed, covered in blood and burns, his left hand horribly mangled. Natasha couldn't tear her eyes away from his bloodied face. Suddenly his eyes flew open and their large black pupils burned into her...

Natasha sat bolt upright in bed with a cry. Her room on the fourth floor of Stark Tower slowly dissolved into view around her.

"You OK, Tasha?" Clint appeared from her bathroom, rubbing his face with a towel.

Natasha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to slow her galloping heartbeat. "Yeah... Bad dream," she murmured, her throat feeling raw.

"I waited up for you... Well, tried. I guess I must have fallen asleep," Clint said, and she detected a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Natasha slid her legs over the side of the bed and clutched at her stomach, she was sure she was going to throw up. Looking to the clock radio on her bedside table she saw the little red lines scatter themselves to read '7:30am'.

"You wanna talk about last night?"

"What about it?" Natasha asked, massaging her temples.

"All the things I said on the jet," Clint said carefully. "I know you were thinking them too. I could've used your support."

"I didn't think it was very tactful in front of Thor. The guy has seven hundred pounds on you, and that's not including his hammer," Natasha answered, praying Clint would drop the subject.

"You're making jokes now?" Clint snapped. "No... No, I get it. You haven't had that lunatic inside your head. But come on, Tasha. You don't think this is messed up?"

"Fury gave us a job to do."

"But why us? Actually, why you and Bruce? Isn't it dangerous having Bruce treat someone who tried to use him as a weapon against us?"

"OK, Clint, I'm not doing this with you now!" Natasha said sharply, leaping up and wishing she hadn't as the room started spinning. "I've had three hours sleep and I don't have the energy to argue!"

Clint's expression softened and he reached for her hand. "You're right, I'm sorry. Come have breakfast with me."

Natasha shrugged off his hand. She had no appetite, and felt like she never would have again. "I can't. I need to meet Bruce in the lab."

"You have to eat, Natasha!" Clint said angrily, looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

"I'm not hungry," Natasha replied curtly, pulling on her boots.

"Don't be like that."

"Like what, Clint? I'm not being like anything!" With that she stormed out of the room and headed for the elevator, aware that she had sounded like a spoilt teenager and her last comment hadn't even made sense, but she was too tired to care.

As the elevator doors closed she caught a glimpse of Clint appearing from her room, shouting her name. But she jabbed at the glowing '8' with her finger until the doors were firmly shut. Arriving on the eighth floor she found Bruce at Loki's bedside, just where she had left him. He looked up when she entered the lab; there were dark grey bruises chalked under his eyes and his hair was starting to stick up at odd angles.

"Hey, sleep well?" Bruce asked, and she was sure there was some sarcasm lurking behind it.

"Obviously better than you," Natasha answered, coming to his side. "Have you actually had any sleep yet?"

Bruce shook his head. "But I'm fine."

"Well you look like hell."

"So do you."

They both broke into tired smiles.

"I've got a present for you," Bruce said, fishing something out of his pocket and handing it to her.

"A pager?" Natasha said sceptically, examining it.

"I've got one too. Found them in a box a couple of hours ago."

"Great. Now we're real doctors!" Natasha said with a smirk, but she clipped it onto her belt all the same. "Bruce, please go get some sleep. I'm OK here."

Bruce looked from the sleeping god to Natasha, but finally gave in. "Alright. Could you finish redressing his burns? Page me if you need anything."

"Will do," Natasha said, tapping her pager.

Bruce disappeared through the lounge doors, heading to his bedroom on the other side. Natasha carefully continued Bruce's work tending to Loki's wounds. She cringed at the sight of the charred flesh, wondering what could possibly do that to a legendary god. Once she had finished she pulled Loki's blankets back up to his chin, tucking them in around him, and rearranged his pillows. She then retrieved her mug of half-drunk coffee from the bench where she had left it only a few hours ago.

Creeping into the lounge she found Thor still asleep on the couch, covered in a knitted quilt she recognised as Pepper's. Must have been one strong sedative, she thought as the god continued to snore. There was a kitchenette which took up the far corner of the lounge opposite Bruce's bedroom door. Deciding Thor was too out of it to be disturbed, Natasha popped her mug in the microwave and set it off with a beep.

-o0o-

It was just past eleven o'clock when Bruce resurfaced in a fresh shirt and pants, and found Natasha in the lounge kitchenette, arguing with the toaster. "Didn't know you liked Pop-Tarts," he said with a grin. "Try turning the dial down to '3' or you'll cremate them."

"They're for Thor," Natasha replied. "He's just gone to shower and change. You really knocked him out, Bruce."

"All OK with our patient?" Bruce asked, ignoring her last comment.

"Yeah, nothing to report. I –"

"Thor!"

Natasha and Bruce stared at each other in shock, then looked towards the lab.

"Brother!"

They both bolted towards the lounge doors and skidded into the lab. Reaching Loki's bedside they found the god's eyes still tightly shut, but he called out again: "Just kill me... Please!" He violently jerked his head from side to side, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"He's dreaming," Natasha murmured, stunned.

"Having nightmares by the sound of it," Bruce conceded.

You're having nightmares too, huh? Natasha thought, having the sudden urge to reach out and touch Loki's hand, his hair. His face was contorted in pain as he hoarsely shouted again for Thor. "Should we wake him?"

"No, he's still too far gone, and the shock won't be good for him," Bruce said quickly. "We need Thor."

As if on cue, the God of Thunder appeared in the laboratory corridor. At the sight of his brother writhing in his bed and shouting, he raced to the doors. "What's happening?" he demanded, rushing to Loki's side.

"He's having nightmares... and asking for you," Bruce replied quietly.

"What should I do?" Thor asked, looking desperately from his brother to Bruce.

"Talk to him... Let him know you're here," Bruce answered, moving aside so Thor could take Loki's uninjured hand.

"Thor!" Loki choked out.

"I'm here, Loki," Thor whispered, then repeated louder: "I'm here. You're safe, brother."

Bruce caught Natasha's eye and nodded towards the lounge doors. From the doorway Natasha watched as Thor spoke soothingly to his brother, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. As if sensing his brother's presence, Loki's cries stopped, quietening to the occasional whimper.

"He still loves his brother," Natasha said softly. "Even after everything he's done, everything that's happened. He's never stopped believing there's some good in him."

"They've spent most of their lives together," Bruce said. "A thousand years of kinship. It's a bond not so easily broken."

Natasha nodded in reply, still transfixed by the scene. She was sure that Loki's cries for his brother – at his weakest, at his most vulnerable – meant that he loved Thor too, even if he would never dare admit it. And she found herself believing with Thor that Loki still had a chance of redemption.

-o0o-

The next afternoon, Natasha was changing Loki's IV line. The god had developed a fever the previous evening and they were trying desperately to get his temperature back down. Tony, Steve, and Thor had kept watch that night so Natasha and Bruce could get some proper sleep. Natasha had hardly seen Clint since their argument, and Tony told her that Clint was spending all his time on his third floor shooting range, using a home-made dummy of Loki for target practice. Natasha suspected he was only half-joking.

Natasha hooked up the fluid bag to the stand and gave it a squeeze for good measure. She then went to check the monitors and stopped dead. A pair of curious green eyes had been watching her the whole time.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys, here's the chapter you've all been waiting for. I'm so sorry it's taken us a while to reach this point, but I felt a complex relationship like Loki and Natasha's needed a bit of justifying groundwork. Hope you enjoy this!**

Natasha froze. She felt as if roots had suddenly sprouted from her boots, fixing her to the spot, and each breath got caught in her throat. "Loki," she gasped finally.

"Agent Romanoff," he croaked, his voice hoarse. "Could... Could I have some water, please?"

Shocked by his politeness, it took Natasha a while to react. But she regained herself and whispered: "Of course", turning to the table on her right. She poured water from a metal jug into a small glass and turned back to Loki. Loki simply stared at her, and she realised the problem. Moving closer to him, she carefully slid her hand behind his head, her fingers getting tangled in his jet black hair, and held the glass to his lips, gently lifting his head so he could drink.

Loki drank deeply and gratefully until he had drained the glass, and Natasha withdrew her hand, letting him rest his head back on the pillow. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice sounding crisper.

Natasha was unnerved by his manners, and wondered whether this was some sort of act and he was about to strangle her. When she pictured Loki regaining consciousness the visions had been full of obscenities, shrieks, and Bruce armed with a needle, ready to sedate their patient again. The encounter was almost disturbingly non-violent so far.

Loki peered around the room, squinting at the laboratory's bright lights. "Where am I?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Stark Tower," Natasha replied. "You've been here a couple of days."

"Earth?" Loki said, confused. "How did I get here?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that," Natasha answered. "We picked you up in the New Mexico desert."

Loki lifted his heavily bandaged and splinted left hand; his expression darkened as he examined it, as if he was remembering something. He then reached for his IV line.

"Hey," Natasha said, grabbing his hand. "Don't touch that."

Loki stared curiously from Natasha to her hand holding his, and she quickly withdrew it, blushing. "So I'm your prisoner yet again, Agent Romanoff?" he asked with a smirk.

"No, you're my patient," Natasha corrected. "And it's Natasha."

"Natasha," Loki repeated, musing on each syllable, as if he'd never said it aloud before. Natasha felt herself blush further.

"I thought I heard voices." Bruce appeared from the lounge, and came to join Natasha.

"Dr. Banner," Loki said curtly.

"Afternoon, Loki," Bruce said with a nod, his eyes sweeping the collection of monitors. He gave Natasha a side-ways glance. "You're blushing," he commented slyly.

"No, I'm not!" Natasha replied irritably. She didn't blush – she _never_ blushed – but even as she said so, she felt her cheeks grow hotter.

"OK, I just need to test your vision." Bruce turned back to Loki, still clearly amused. He held up his index finger. "If you could follow my finger." He made a large capital 'H' in the air with his finger, which Loki's eyes followed perfectly. "Good," Bruce said, satisfied. "And on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate the pain?"

"I'm not in any pain," Loki answered stoically.

"I see," Bruce said, then suddenly slapped his hand down on Loki's ribcage, making him cry out and convulse, before choking out: "Six!"

"Bruce!" Natasha said with a glare. "Glad you got that out of your system?"

"Uh-huh. We'll get you some morphine."

"No. I don't want any medication," Loki said, his expression unreadable.

"Tough," Bruce replied, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder with a smile. "I don't do martyrs."

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Bruce's cheerfulness; he seemed to be taking this all in his stride. And Loki was yet to try and kill either of them. She wondered if she'd fallen down a rabbit hole into some bizarre parallel universe, but she wasn't going to complain.

"Thor," Loki said suddenly. "Where is he?"

"Probably with Tony." Bruce took out his pager. "I'll page him."

"He's barely left your side," Natasha said, beginning to feed painkiller in to Loki's IV line. "He's been so worried."

"Ah," Loki said quietly. "He hasn't broken anything expensive has he?"

Natasha thought of Thor's reaction the night they were resetting Loki's fingers – how he had looked like he wanted to punch his fist through a wall. Loki clearly knew his brother all too well. She wanted to tell him about yesterday; his cries for his brother, and Thor's response, but thought better of it. "No, but Bruce did have to sedate him at one point."

"How long has it been since..._ they_ took me?" Loki asked, obviously finding the question difficult.

"Six weeks," Bruce answered, looking sombre.

Natasha knew they were going to have the conversation about what the Chitauri had done to Loki at some point, but she wasn't sure she was ready for it now. Her reprieve came in the form of Thor, galloping down the corridor and bursting into the lab, beaming. "Loki!"

Much to Natasha's surprise, a small smile appeared on Loki's lips. "Thor... Thought you'd got rid of me, did you?"

Natasha and Bruce retreated from the bed so Thor could grasp Loki's hand, which he did so tightly that Natasha feared he would break more bones, but Loki let him do it.

"Don't talk like that," Thor scolded. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you well!"

"I've been better," Loki said with a smirk, then looked down into his lap, the smirk vanishing. "Can... Can you ever forgive me, brother?"

"What?" Thor whispered, shocked.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness... You who I have wronged more than anyone... But I just hope that maybe... maybe you could..." Loki's voice cracked as he looked up, and Natasha was stunned when she realised there were tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Thor," he choked. "Everything I've done... I... I lost myself somewhere along the way..." But he couldn't continue, and his gaze fell back into his lap.

Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder and gently pulled him towards him. "Loki, look at me, please..." A tear slid down Thor's cheek. "Of course I forgive you... How can you doubt that?" Their foreheads were almost touching as the brothers broke down into silence.

Natasha and Bruce stared at Thor and Loki in awed horror, as if they were watching a car crash in slow motion. "Are... Are you seeing this?" Natasha asked, blinking to see if the scene would change. "Is... Is he joking?"

"I don't think so," Bruce replied, his voice barely audible. "What Loki's been through... tortured, starved, left for dead... it's enough to change even the most evil super-villain."

"No one's going to believe this," Natasha murmured, but still she felt a warm, giddy feeling spreading in her stomach, wondering if Thor had actually been right all along.

"They'll see it for themselves," Bruce said, looking to the corridor.

Natasha quickly turned to see Agent Hill, flanked by Tony, Steve, and Clint holding a large black crate, marching down the corridor. They entered, making Thor jump, and Loki arched his shoulders, shrinking into his bed like a cornered animal.

"He's awake," Agent Hill stated, sounding almost bored.

Clint set down the crate at his feet with an ominous clunk.

"What's in the box?" Natasha asked carefully.

"Restraints," Agent Hill answered.

"Restraints?" Bruce looked worried.

"You're not tying him to the bed!" Natasha cried, when the revelation hit.

"In that case, we'll be taking him to a more secure facility," Agent Hill said, her voice remaining monotone and unconcerned.

"He's not well enough to be moved anywhere!" Bruce protested.

"That's Director Fury's call," Agent Hill replied.

But Thor moved to the end of Loki's bed, blocking him from Agent Hill's sight. "You want him, you'll have to get through me."

Acting on the same unknown instinct she had felt on the jet, Natasha moved to Thor's side. "And me," she said, staring the agent down.

Her defiance started a chain reaction, and Bruce came silently to join her, followed by Steve, then Tony. Clint stayed put, avoiding Natasha's gaze. Agent Hill narrowed her eyes at the Avengers assembled in front of her, forming a cordon between her and Loki. She would have to rethink the situation. Her earpiece crackled and she put her finger to it. "Thor, Dr. Banner, Agent Romanoff... Director Fury wants to see you."

-o0o-

Agent Hill, Natasha, Bruce, and Thor stepped out of the elevator into the fifteenth floor boardroom, located below Tony and Pepper's penthouse suite. A sleek, polished table took up most of the room, with a huge flatscreen at the opposite end to the elevator. The group congregated around the screen, which bore the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. Agent Hill pressed a few buttons on the control panel, located at the end of the table, and Nick Fury's face appeared, looming large on the screen.

"Thor, Dr. Banner, Agent Romanoff," he said, addressing them as a principal would three naughty schoolchildren. "I understand we have a problem?"

"I don't want Loki moved anywhere." Bruce was the first to speak. "You placed him under my care, and I think I should have a say in the matter."

"Agreed, Doctor," Fury replied. "But now he's awake, Loki is dangerous. What about his powers?"

"He can barely breathe on his own," Natasha spoke up. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

"Not at the moment, Agent Romanoff. But it will become one soon."

"My brother is not who he once was," Thor said, stepping forward. "Suffering has changed him... I can see it. He has shown remorse – great remorse for his actions. I do not think he poses any threat to us."

"But he's a monster!" Agent Hill suddenly burst out, as if she could no longer contain herself.

"Yeah, and where have I heard that before?" Bruce asked darkly.

"I worry that you're being far too trusting, Thor," Fury answered with a sigh, ignoring Agent Hill's interruption. "I'm not convinced."

"Neither are we," Natasha said. "But we've got no reason to doubt him so far. At least let us see how things pan out."

Fury was silent for a long time, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers, gazing down intently. He eventually looked up again. "Very well. But I need information, Agent Romanoff. I want to know how the Chitauri got into Asgard. Where they took him. Why they let him live... And what he's told them about us."

"I'm not going to trick him into telling us anything," Natasha bristled. "Not again."

"I don't care how you do it, I just want that information."

"Yes, Sir."

"OK, I'll leave you to it. But I hope you all understand... If Loki escapes. If he damages anyone or anything... It's on you three."

Natasha, Bruce, and Thor exchanged glances, but nodded in agreement, and Fury was gone. Without a word, Agent Hill turned on her heel and strode back towards the elevator; Natasha could tell she wasn't happy with the outcome of their call. But Natasha felt relief... relief that Loki was staying with them. For some reason, the thought of him being taken away to some far-flung S.H.I.E.L.D. base bothered her. She decided not to dwell on that.

The team rode the elevator back down to the eighth floor. As the doors opened they heard raised voices. Natasha rushed into the corridor just in time to see Steve lunge towards Clint.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey everyone! Firstly, I want to say a huge thank you for all the wonderful and helpful reviews I got for the last chapter – they've really helped me shape the story. Secondly, I want to include some interesting words from Mr. Tom Hiddleston about Loki as a sort of preface to this chapter: "****My job is to find the humanity in him.****Ultimately, underneath all of Loki's hatefulness and spite is a lost child. I have to get underneath the skin of that. He's just someone who is so lacking in self-esteem, all he needs is true affection, I guess." **

Natasha had no memory of getting there, but all of a sudden she was in the lab, with Agent Hill, Bruce, and Thor hot on her heels. Steve swung a fierce fist towards Clint, but he ducked just in time, causing Steve to stagger forward. The captain regained his footing and raised his arm again, ready to strike, and he would have done if Tony and Bruce hadn't wrestled him back, their arms locked around his heaving chest. Thor instinctively moved to Loki's side, adopting a wide, protective stance, and Natasha realised this was the first time she had ever seen Loki look genuinely scared. She rounded on Clint, standing between him and the struggling Steve, her hand held flat against his chest like a stop sign.

"You wanna try picking on someone who isn't in a hospital bed, Clint?" Steve yelled, his whole face flushed red. This was the angriest Natasha had ever seen the usually docile Steve, and she dreaded to think what could have got him so riled up.

"I'd put you in a hospital bed, Rogers, if it weren't against my principles to beat up senior citizens!" Clint spat, trying to step around Natasha, but she moved in front of him again.

"Enough!" Agent Hill barked, and if looks could kill, Clint and Steve would have died a thousand times over. "What happened?"

"Clint was threatening Loki," Steve said, his voice quiet but dangerous. "And swinging that hook in his face." Natasha followed Steve's gaze, and saw that the black crate had been opened; a sinister-looking metal hook attached to a leather strap lay on the floor at Clint's feet. "He was saying things about Thor too," Steve added.

Natasha looked up at Clint with wide eyes; she could understand his hatred of Loki, but insulting Thor was a new low. She searched his face, hoping for a flicker of dissent to tell her this wasn't true, but his expression remained blank. "Clint?" she whispered, praying he would contradict Steve.

"Can't you see what he's doing, Tasha?" Clint said, throwing an accusatory finger in Loki's direction. "This is what he wants!"

"What did you say about Thor?" Natasha asked, trying to keep her voice even.

But Clint ignored her question. "It's Loki! He's tearing us apart!"

Natasha's heart sank. "No, Clint," she murmured. "It's not him. It's you."

-o0o-

Two days later, Natasha found herself in a now familiar position; sitting on a stool at Loki's bedside. Bruce was worried that Loki's burns weren't healing properly, so she'd offered to debride them again – the rather gruesome task of cutting away any dead flesh that couldn't be saved. The God of Mischief was sleeping soundly, and Natasha tended to him in a pensive silence. His t-shirt sleeve kept falling down, and every so often she had to roll it back up again so she could work on the burns at the top of his arm. It had been Tony who had first commented on Loki's nakedness beneath his blankets and offered up a pair of black cotton pyjamas; a short-sleeved, v-neck t-shirt and long pants. Tony kept reminding everyone that they were Calvin Klein, and if Loki got blood or whatever else on them, he would be paying the dry-cleaning bill. Natasha smiled at the memory, and couldn't help thinking how much they suited the sleeping god.

Clint had been sent to Chicago for four days after the 'incident' with Steve. Natasha suspected Fury had pulled an assignment out of his ass to get rid of him, and stop him killing Loki before Natasha had chance to get the information Fury needed. Although that was proving difficult, even in Clint's absence. Loki seemed to be aware that Natasha had a job to do, and was being purposefully evasive and unhelpful. Bruce tried to question him too, but somehow ended up telling Loki his life story in exchange for very little information. Natasha had found Bruce clattering about in the kitchenette, muttering to himself, and calling Loki every name under the sun.

Loki also seemed thoroughly embarrassed by his show of emotion with Thor, and Natasha was sure he was mentally kicking himself for letting his guard down so easily and so quickly. To compensate he kept snapping at Thor, and Thor would appear in Bruce's lounge, looking hurt and bewildered like a child returning home to his parents after being deprived of his lunch money. Natasha now wondered if Loki's remorse had simply been the result of the delirium of fever, or if she had imagined the whole thing.

She had just removed a charred, black pellet of skin from Loki's elbow when she felt him stir. The god's eyes fluttered open and he looked to Natasha, a grin appearing.

"What?" Natasha asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"You're always the first thing I see when I wake up," Loki replied, his smile unwavering.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Natasha said with a smirk, depositing her tweezers on the table at her side.

"I don't mind," Loki said, sounding breathless.

Natasha noticed he was sweating again; his fever had broken that morning, but his forehead was covered in a fine dew. She turned to the metal basin of cold water behind her and retrieved the cloth that was floating in it, wringing it out. She gently dabbed at Loki's forehead, wiping away the sweat.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked, peering up, disconcertingly, at the cloth.

"Appearing as a balm," Natasha replied wryly, then stopped. Oh God, she thought, we even have our own in-jokes now... With an inward groan she threw the cloth back into the basin so that water splashed over the sides, and returned to Loki's burns, avoiding his gaze.

"You're angry with me." It was a statement, not a question. But when Natasha didn't respond, he asked: "Why?"

"I can give you a phone book-thick list of reasons why," Natasha answered, still not looking up.

"But what's the latest reason?"

"Thor's upset," Natasha said, with a sigh. She wanted to ask him if he'd meant what he'd said to his brother about forgiveness, just to see if he'd even admit to ever having said it, but dismissed this as a childish question.

"Ah," Loki said, believing a single syllable would suffice.

Natasha gave him her best 'and-what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it' glare.

"I'll speak to him," Loki said quietly, and she wasn't sure whether he actually intended to, or was just saying it to please her.

"Hmm," was all Natasha said in reply. She picked up her tweezers again and began to work at the burns spreading to Loki's wrist.

"Where did you do your medical training?"

"Not gonna work on me, Loki," Natasha replied briskly.

"What?"

"I happen to know you had Bruce tell you every detail of his life from five to thirty-five yesterday afternoon," Natasha said, hiding a smile.

"My experience of humans is that you greatly enjoy talking about yourselves," Loki replied with a shrug.

"You're generalising."

"Fine. How about: I'll answer your questions if you'll answer mine?"

Natasha narrowed her eyes at Loki. Surely doing a deal with the God of Mischief could lead nowhere good?

"You don't trust me?" Loki murmured.

"I don't trust anyone."

"Now that I do believe."

They had reached an impasse. With another inward groan, Natasha gave in. "Afghanistan," she said simply.

"A human war zone?"

"Yes. I was out there for a year – I trained in a military hospital in Kabul."

Loki studied her for a long time; when he opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, Natasha jumped in with: "My turn. How did you get these burns?" She indicated his arm.

"Volcanic rocks," came the terse reply.

"You're going to have to elaborate, or you don't get another question."

Loki looked at Natasha, seeming impressed, as if he had met his match. "The Chitauri took me to some forsaken, rocky moon," he answered slowly. "They extracted rocks for its core... and pressed them into my skin whilst they were interrogating me."

Natasha stared at Loki, her stomach twisting in a sickly motion as she tried to resist the mental images... Loki pinned down, being branded by the searing heat of the rocks... His screams as he begged for death... She had the sudden urge to reach for his hand, but fought against it. "And... And your fingers?"

Loki's eyes unconsciously flicked to his splinted left hand. "I don't remember."

"I'm not buying that," Natasha said, then regretted her harsh tone. "Please, Loki. Tell me... I want to know."

Loki closed his eyes, his expression pained. "They broke a bone for each question I wouldn't answer."

Natasha studied Loki intently as the implication of what he'd just said sank in... He had been tortured in the most brutal, barbaric way, but he had still refused to give the Chitauri information... Why? She was aware that he could be lying... But his broken fingers and extensive, sprawling burns said otherwise.

Loki opened his eyes and quickly swung the spotlight back to Natasha. "Afghanistan... You dream about it." It wasn't a question; Loki already knew the answer, and Natasha's chest tightened in shock. She was about to speak, when Loki asked: "Who's Sam?"

Natasha imagined this was what it felt like to be ploughed down by a freight train. She wanted to leave, to run away, but she was frozen on her stool. Her lips could barely move, but Loki read the question in her expression. "I heard you last night... Thor woke you."

She and Thor had crashed on the sofas in Bruce's lounge for the night. In her dreams she had returned to Afghanistan, then all of a sudden there was a voice bellowing amongst the gunfire and she had woken to find a very concerned God of Thunder leaning over her. Loki was watching Natasha carefully, and she was surprised to see a look of panic in his eyes. "I... I've said something wrong."

"Don't play with me, Loki," Natasha snapped. "I think you know exactly what you're doing."

"No, I apologise... That wasn't very tactful of me. I was merely curious," Loki said, looking even paler than usual, if that were possible, and Natasha wondered if that was genuine guilt she detected in his voice. "You interest me."

"Easy there, Edward," Natasha replied, feeling a little better.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing... Just a dumb movie Clint thought I'd enjoy," Natasha muttered. In an attempt to act like a normal couple, Clint had dragged her to see 'Twilight'; that date had been even more disastrous than the one in Budapest. The pair were silent for a long time, and Natasha felt her anger slowly ebbing away. "Lieutenant Sam Foster," she said finally. "A soldier stationed with me in Kabul. He majored in Russian at Yale, so we had a few things in common... Sam was an academic. He didn't belong in a war zone."

Loki remained silent, watching her intently, urging her to continue.

"I had to patch him up so many times, we used to joke that he was taking bullets on purpose just so he could see me... He was a good man."

"Was?" Loki asked, though he seemed to know what was coming.

"Yeah... He... He went and got himself blown up. Car bomb." Natasha was aware of her bitterness bordering on sarcasm, but it was all she could do to stop the tears she felt prickling in the corners of her eyes. "They told me he died instantly... Didn't feel a thing." She shrugged, indicating this was the end of her tale, but Loki wasn't buying her nonchalance.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," he said quietly, and she was sure his hand had moved towards hers... But it must have been her eyes playing tricks on her. She searched Loki's face, looking for a hint of malice behind the sincerity... but couldn't find it. She hadn't spoken to anyone about Sam since his death, and she couldn't quite believe she'd just told Loki, of all people, about him. She was about to speak when she was silenced by: "Afternoon, brother! Natasha!"

Thor had entered the lab without either of them noticing. Loki shot his brother a disgusted look, clearly annoyed by the interruption, and Thor immediately took on the expression of a kicked dog. Natasha gave Loki a warning glare and he forced a smile. "Hello, Thor."

"OK, I'll leave you boys to it," Natasha said, packing away her debriding equipment. "Play nicely." She got up and headed towards the lounge, aware that Loki was still watching her with a look of longing which clearly said: "Don't leave me here with this moron!"

Bruce was sitting on the sofa, avidly tapping away on his laptop when Natasha walked in. He looked up with a smile. "Hey... You OK?"

Natasha could tell it was a loaded question. "I'm fine."

"Thor told me you had a rough night."

"I'm not the one we're supposed to be interrogating!" Natasha huffed, but then felt bad for being short with Bruce. "Sorry."

"It's OK... Look, just one more question: when was the last time you left Stark Tower?"

Natasha stared at Bruce, mentally reviewing her week. Five days. She hadn't been outside for five days. Bruce must have read the answer in her expression: "It's a beautiful day... Maybe go get some fresh air?" Natasha looked reluctant, so Bruce added: "Doctor's orders."

Caving in with a sigh yet again, Natasha turned to go, but not before saying: "You know I'll be back in an hour."

Bruce simply grinned. "I give you twenty-five minutes."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey everyone – here's a longer chapter with an added ounce of angst! I've been listening to a lot of Florence + The Machine recently, and I think 'Cosmic Love' is definitely a song for Loki and Natasha, and 'No Light, No Light' a song for Natasha and Clint – give them a listen!**

Natasha shielded her eyes against the sun as she walked down 59th Street. Without really meaning to, she had found herself heading towards Central Park – probably the best place in Manhattan to get 'some fresh air'. She had changed out of her trademark black into something a little more inconspicuous, though she was beginning to feel the heat in her jacket – a distressed, brown leather affair with far too many zips for her liking, but Tony had told her it was "totally in this season", and who was she to argue with Stark Tower's resident fashionista?

She turned into the park and headed for the nearest bench by the pond, retreating into the shade of the trees. There were a couple of teenagers sitting across the water, smoking and making manic gestures. Natasha's fingers itched for a cigarette, and she had half a mind to walk over there and try and bum one off them. She hadn't smoked properly for years... Although she found the occasional espionage mission required her to put on a low-cut dress and ask rich, important men for a light.

Clint hated her smoking, but she found the odd one was good for stress-relief... Like now. She glanced at her watch. Bruce was right; twenty five minutes and she wanted to go back. The lab had suddenly become Stark Tower's centre of gravity, with the rest of the Avengers orbiting around it, and Natasha felt the pull even in Central Park. She had replayed her last conversation with Loki over and over again in her head on the walk over. Why had she felt comfortable enough to let her guard down with him? Was she simply projecting her affection for Sam onto a similar situation? She knew her return to the medical world had brought back the nightmares... But was her reaction to Loki something more than the memory of Sam's loss? There was no denying that she was drawn to the god. She wondered if that was Loki's doing... Because surely her attraction couldn't be voluntary?

Natasha sat and mulled over the situation for another half hour, staring distantly into the green-grey depths of the pond. But then, when she could resist the pull no longer, she returned to Stark Tower. She found Bruce and Thor at Loki's bedside. All three looked up when she walked into the lab and fell silent.

"One hour, seventeen minutes... Dammit!" Bruce said, looking at his watch.

"What?" Natasha asked, arching her eyebrows.

"I owe Loki five bucks."

-o0o-

"So, where is he taking you?"

"Some swanky French restaurant on 65th Street," Natasha replied, snipping the bandage with her scissors and wrapping the remainder around Loki's index finger.

She looked up to find the god staring at her. "You don't sound impressed."

"I don't really like restaurants," Natasha said, checking the splint was firmly in place. She had picked Clint up from the airport that morning to discover that he had already made dinner reservations for the two of them. He told her it was to make up for the past week, but she suspected it was just a ploy to get her away from the lab for the night.

"You'd rather eat Chinese food out of a box with Dr. Banner for the sixth night running?" Loki said with a smirk.

"I like Chinese food," Natasha said, mirroring Loki's smirk. She started bandaging his thumb. It was the first time she'd changed his bandages whilst he was conscious, and it meant holding his hand for half an hour whilst she worked from finger to finger. Loki hadn't commented on it, but every so often she felt his fingers twitch into hers... She told herself it was just a reflex reaction as the bones healed.

"When will you be leaving?" Loki murmured.

Natasha knew he had meant to sound casual, but she detected a hint of annoyance in his voice. She narrowed her eyes at him... Was the God of Mischief actually _sulking_? "Our reservation is for eight... But I'm sure you can survive one night without me." She grinned ruefully.

"Yes... Providing Dr. Banner sedates my brother again."

"You don't mean that."

Loki sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again.

"What?" Natasha asked carefully.

"It just... It _bothers_ me... Thor being so pleased to see me all the time," Loki answered, forming the words slowly, as if it took great effort to say them. "His loyalty is unnerving... I'd feel much better if he head-butted me... Or punched me in the face."

Natasha finished bandaging Loki's thumb and laid his hand back on the bed, leaving her hand on top of his longer than she probably should have done. "Why can't you accept that he's forgiven you?"

"Because I don't deserve it!" Loki retorted, his voice rising. He looked away from Natasha, moving his hand to his stomach, as if he were afraid she might take it. Natasha tensed, but remained silent, waiting for him to regain himself. Loki seemed to sense her discomfort and muttered a barely audible "Sorry".

"It's OK," Natasha said quietly. "Now I just need to check your ribs, then we're done for the day."

She stood up and Loki lay back obediently. She gently pulled the blankets down to his waist and then, avoiding eye contact, lifted his t-shirt. If Clint walks in now, she thought, there is no God. The left side of Loki's ribcage was still badly bruised, the pale skin covered in patches of grey and purple, yellowing at the edges like an ominous cloud formation. She reached out for the darkest spot of skin and Loki flinched. "Still tender?" she whispered, without looking up.

"... Yes," Loki replied, sounding disappointed with himself.

Natasha traced the line of each rib with her hand, reading the god's bones like Braille. Bruce was right; like Loki's burns, the bones weren't healing as fast as they should be. She slowly pulled down Loki's shirt and tucked his blankets in around him, attempting a poker face.

"What's wrong?"

Ah. Fifteen years of fooling spies and intelligence officials, but of course she couldn't fool the God of Lies. "Nothing to worry about... Your body's just taking its time to heal, that's all." Loki studied her for a long time, but surprisingly didn't question her further. "I want to try something," Natasha announced, believing a change of subject was needed. She unclipped her pager from her belt and held it out, flat on her hand, in front of Loki. "Transform this into something."

Loki looked at her as if she had lost her mind, but seemed amused by that thought. "Into what exactly?"

"I don't know... An animal – a frog maybe," Natasha replied, her hand unmoving.

"I might not be able to change it back," Loki admitted, a smirk appearing.

"Doesn't matter. I hate the damn thing anyway."

With a laugh Loki raised his uninjured right hand and held it over the pager, his eyes focused intently on it... But nothing happened. The god started twisting his fingers, his brow furrowed in concentration, but still nothing. He gritted his teeth and flapped his hand at the pager, aware that he was beginning to look ridiculous... And then he suddenly let out a snarl. His right arm cut a wide arc in the air and knocked the glass from his bedside table. It hit the floor and smashed, sending glittering shards skidding across the lab. Natasha jumped up, a cry caught in her throat. Loki's eyes flashed black, then he looked into his lap, his lips still twisted in a snarl.

"What's going on?" Bruce had appeared from the lounge; his concerned eyes flitted from Loki, to Natasha, to the glass on the floor.

"Everything's fine!" Natasha said, a little too quickly, stepping around the bed to the glass. "Could you get the dustpan and brush?"

Bruce reluctantly disappeared back into the lounge. Loki was still looking away with a face like thunder. Natasha was about to say something to him when the doctor reappeared with the dustpan and handed it over. She swept up the glass quickly and efficiently, disposing of it in the metal peddle bin in the corner of the lab, then approached Loki's bedside. "Loki –"

"Leave me!" he growled, refusing to meet her gaze, but then added in a softer, sadder tone: "I want to be alone."

Natasha looked to Bruce. "Lounge. Now!" he said sternly, and she followed him through the doors, giving Loki one last regretful glance.

As soon as the doors closed Bruce folded his arms across his chest. "OK, don't tell me you knocked that glass off the table from three feet away. I know you're good – but I don't think that's in your skill set."

"Alright, alright!" Natasha said, not taking kindly to being scolded. "Loki knocked it off... He was angry."

"Why?"

"Because... Because..." All those years spent living off deceit and now she couldn't think of a decent lie. "Because I asked him to turn my pager into a frog and he couldn't do it."

"What?" Bruce asked incredulously. "You purposefully tried to make him use his powers? What were you thinking, Natasha?"

"Well, it doesn't matter does it? Because, for whatever reason, he's lost those abilities."

Bruce stared at Natasha, resting his chin on his hand. "We need to tell Fury," he said finally.

Natasha nodded.

"But I'll have to do it... You've got a hot date tonight. Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"It's five-thirty."

"So? Don't you need about three hours?" he said with a smile.

Natasha smiled too, relieved Bruce had changed the subject... Although she decided to change it back. "I don't want to leave you with Loki in this state... I can cancel."

"No, you can't," Bruce said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her towards the door. "Seriously, Natasha, we'll be fine. You go, have fun!"

Natasha re-entered the lab without Bruce. Loki was still staring into his lap, though he had lost the snarl. She decided against saying anything and walked quickly towards the doors.

"Natasha?"

She slowly turned.

"Have a good night," he murmured, the trace of a smile sneaking through.

"You too, Loki. I'll see you tomorrow."

It was only when the elevator doors slid shut that Natasha realised just how unwilling she had been to leave... And then came a further revelation; if Loki was devoid of his powers, he couldn't be manipulating her. She was feeling everything on her own.

-o0o-

Natasha swore loudly when Clint knocked on her door for a second time. "I'll be out in a minute!" she called, still scouring her dressing table and her bedside drawers, searching for her pager... She then realised she must have left it in the lab, and remembered it clattering to the floor when Loki lashed out. Making a quick decision, she grabbed her clutch bag and answered the door.

"Whoah!" Clint said, his wide eyes travelling the length of her body. "You look beautiful, Tasha."

She was wearing a long, backless, dark blue dress cut in shimmering silk... She thought she looked ridiculous, like she was supposed to be attending the Oscars or something, but it had been the tenth dress she'd tried on, and there comes a point when you just don't care anymore.

"OK, I just need to run to the lab to pick up a few things –"

"You're going to the lab?" Clint asked, his expression darkening. "Dressed like that?"

"Yeah, I'll be two minutes," Natasha said, pushing past Clint before he could protest. "Meet you downstairs in five!" And she rushed towards the elevator, her heels clicking on the floor as she went.

Arriving in the laboratory corridor, she saw Bruce, Thor, and the surprising addition of Tony gathered around Loki's bed... At least the god looked a little happier than when she had left him. She walked in and all of them gawped, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a row of goldfish in bags at a funfair. Men! Natasha thought, rolling her eyes, even if two of them are from another planet there's still something positively Pavlovian about them!

Tony wolf-whistled appreciatively as she came to Bruce's side. "Christ, Natasha," the doctor said with a grin. "You could've made an effort!"

"Very funny," Natasha replied. "I left my pager in here earlier..."

Bruce quickly produced it from his trouser pocket and Natasha dropped it into her clutch. "OK, Clint's waiting, you boys have a nice night!" There was a mumbled thank you and muttered wishes of the same, and Natasha left the lab as quickly as was possible in her mountainous heels, trying desperately not to trip, as she was aware that all eyes were on her.

-o0o-

A kiss on her cheek. A kiss on the curve of her jaw. A kiss sneaking into the nook of her neck. Clint slowly left a trail of kisses down from Natasha's lips, and she arched her back, pressing herself against him. She was about to let out a soft moan when a loud beep sounded, cutting through the darkness of her room.

"What was that?" Clint whispered, clearly annoyed that they had been interrupted.

"My pager," Natasha admitted, and he felt her flinch.

"Ignore it," he muttered, kissing her collarbone.

But the pager sounded again, the beep longer, more insistent, like someone holding their finger down on a doorbell.

"Clint, I can't –" She tried to push Clint away, but he wouldn't move.

"Come on, Tasha," he whined, kissing the hollow of her neck.

"Clint, seriously, stop!" She threw him off her with more force than was strictly necessary and untangled herself from the bed sheets. Flicking on her bedside lamp, she began the search for her clutch bag. Her dress had made a puddle of blue silk on the floor and, reaching under it, she retrieved her bag and pulled out the pager.

"You... You brought that thing with you to dinner?" Clint asked, resentment creeping into his voice.

Natasha ignored him. "It's Bruce. I need to go to the lab."

"What? Now?" Clint snapped, sitting up.

"Bruce needs me," Natasha repeated, pulling on her underwear.

"You can't go now!" Clint said dangerously. "Fuck! Why is _he_ so important all of a sudden?"

Natasha knew they were no longer talking about Bruce. "Work comes before... this, Clint. You've always known that." She went to her wardrobe and took out a pair of pants, hastily pulling them on and reaching for her jacket.

"But this isn't work, this is babysitting!" Clint growled. "And you spend all your time playing happy families in that lab. Tony told me you even slept in there this week!"

"One night – and I stayed on a couch in the lounge, not in Bruce's bed!"

"You know damn well it's not Bruce I'm worried about!"

"What are you –?"

"I am _not_ losing you because that psychopath has Stockholm syndrome!"

"Stockholm syndrome? Clint, you're not making any sense..."

"Are you blind, Tasha? Or just fucking stupid? Loki likes you! Everyone else can see it!"

Natasha zipped up her jacket, her whole face felt hot, and her heart was throwing itself against her chest... She didn't know what to say to Clint, and all of a sudden she was suffocating... Without another word she staggered out of the room, trying and failing to catch her breath, and marched towards the elevator, stabbing the button so hard she almost broke her finger. In the elevator she buried her face in her hands, trying to compose herself, but Clint's words were ringing in her ears... _Loki likes you! Everyone else can see it!_ Clint had been in Chicago for four days, so someone else must have filled him in on what they thought was happening... For some reason Natasha felt betrayed, and that feeling settled in a thick, poisonous mass at the bottom of her stomach.

The elevator doors swung open and she stepped into the corridor, expecting to hear monitors screaming and Bruce or Thor yelling... But she found Bruce standing by Loki's bed, the two talking quietly. She entered the lab, searching both their faces, trying to discern the problem. "You paged me?"

"Yeah, just thought Loki could use some decent company," Bruce said smiling... But his smile vanished at Natasha's thunderous expression.

"Bruce, a word?" Natasha said through gritted teeth, pointing to the lounge. She didn't even wait for the doors to close before she yelled: "You paged me at three in the morning for no reason?"

"Look, Natasha, I find Loki a little tricky sometimes, and I just thought –"

"Why didn't you page Thor?"

"I did, but I think he's on the phone with Jane."

"I was in bed with Clint!" Natasha cried, her voice rising almost an octave higher in frustration.

"Ah," Bruce said quietly. "Should've realised that... I'm sorry. It's just you and Loki have such a good rapport –"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing... Nothing! OK? You're just better at dealing with him than any of us... even Thor. The guy respects you. But I accept I've made a mistake. So go on, go back to bed."

Natasha sighed, slowly massaging her temples. "I hate arguing with you, Bruce... You're just not making my life very easy at the moment." As soon as she said it, she realised it was a childish remark. Life wasn't easy – and Bruce, of all people, knew that.

But the doctor smiled. "I know. I'm sorry. No more late-night pages – I promise."

Natasha nodded and turned to leave. She would say a quick goodnight to Loki on her way out, but that was it. She would go back to her room and spend the next few hours trying to talk Clint round... Loki looked up as she walked into the lab, but quickly looked away again, his expression guilty; he'd obviously heard her and Bruce's argument... With another sigh, Natasha went to his side and wordlessly pulled up a stool. Perhaps she would stay for a little while.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey** **guys, not much to add this time. I just want to say another enormous thank you to all my readers and reviewers, and to everyone who has added my fic or myself to their alerts and favourites – you've given me an absolutely amazing start to my summer!**

"I've interrupted something," Loki said with a knowing, rather sad smile as Natasha took a seat at his bedside.

Natasha thought about denying it, but decided she was done with trying to fool Loki. "Yes," was all she could muster.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I didn't actually ask Dr. Banner to contact you - he insisted. I think he finds my company... _difficult_."

Natasha tried to reply, but her vision was beginning to be blurred by tears, and her cheeks burned as the anger and frustration refused to recede... _You must not cry, you must not cry_, a voice chanted in her head. She rarely cried, and she hated what happened when she did; her cheeks would go as red as her hair and unattractive lines appeared around her eyes, making them look like they were shrinking into her face.

"You're... You're upset," Loki said, green eyes wide, seeming genuinely alarmed. His bandaged hand twitched towards hers, and this time she was sure she hadn't imagined it.

"No, no, I'm fine," Natasha protested, wiping her eyes with her thumbs, as if trying to push the tears back inside them. "I'm fine," she repeated when Loki didn't look convinced. "So, how was your night?" She prayed he would accept the change of subject.

"Busy, actually," Loki replied. "I believe Dr. Banner called for help in your absence. Tony, Steve, and Miss Potts came to visit... Although the Doctor threw Tony out when he suggested playing a drinking game."

Natasha managed a smile. "Sounds like you had a fun night."

"Yes... Tony informed me that he greatly enjoyed 'babysitting' me."

A lead weight dropped in Natasha's stomach as Clint's words came back to her... _But this isn't work! This is babysitting!_

Her troubled expression didn't go unnoticed by Loki. "And how was your evening?" he asked carefully.

"Well, the food was alright... Which was good, seen as it was horrendously overpriced." She had been going for a light, jovial tone, but knew she'd failed miserably. Loki remained silent; she wasn't getting away with one sarcastic remark. "Clint... drank a lot of wine," she admitted. A siren was going off in her head, warning her not to continue, but she overrode it. "He also ate half my crème brûlée as well as his own dessert, flirted with our waitress, and yelled at the maître d' about a mistake on the bill... But at least _we_ didn't argue!" She was aware of the bitterness in her voice, and before she could stop herself, she added: "In the restaurant, anyway." Damn. She knew she shouldn't have said anything... She wasn't used to discussing her relationship with Clint with anyone – not even Clint himself. This was all quite foreign to her, and she shifted uncomfortably on her stool.

"You argued when Dr. Banner called you in?" Loki said, the guilt returning to his expression.

"Yes," Natasha answered, knowing Loki had probably gathered as much from her argument with Bruce. "Clint just finds this situation a little difficult," she sighed, aware that 'understatement' couldn't begin to cover what she'd just said.

"Perhaps if I spoke to him...?"

Natasha actually laughed. "I'm not letting Clint anywhere near you. He'd put an arrow between your eyes!"

Loki's face seemed to brighten at her laughter. "Are you protecting me, Natasha?" he said with a smirk.

"Well, it _is _my job to keep you alive," Natasha replied, the ache in her stomach finally beginning to fade. The pair shared a comfortable silence, unable, in spite of everything, to keep the grins from their faces. "So you know my, er, _excuse_, for being up at three in the morning... What's yours?"

"Dr. Banner has been weaning me off my sleep medication," Loki replied with a shrug.

Natasha raised an eyebrow; neither of them were fooling each other this time.

"The Doctor woke me because I was talking in my sleep," Loki said, after it was clear Natasha would buy nothing but the truth.

She suspected 'talking' was putting it mildly. "You were having nightmares?"

"Nightmares are for children," Loki said, bristling at the assertion.

"Well, we both know that's not true," Natasha said wryly; she and Loki had had their fair share of bad dreams since he had been brought to Stark Tower. "You wanna talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about... They weren't real."

"But I think they were memories of something that was."

Loki's uneasy expression told her she was right. She wasn't going to press him further, but he answered: "One of the Chitauri's favourite games was to put me in an arena... and make me fight their four remaining warriors... That's how I broke my ribs... And got this..." He indicated the gash on his forehead. "They beat me into unconsciousness every time... but never killed me... And every time I woke up... I was disappointed to find I was still alive."

Stunned by his honesty, and the brutality of the tale, Natasha was lost for words... What words of comfort could she possibly give? Only that it was over, and he was safe. Without thinking, she put a hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. "I'm so sorry, Loki," she whispered.

Loki's eyes flitted to her hand and a small smile appeared. Regaining herself, Natasha withdrew her hand with an uncomfortable cough.

"And what do you dream about?" Loki asked softly. When Natasha hesitated he added: "I answer your questions, you answer mine, remember?"

"Just about the military hospital in Kabul... Lots of blood and bandages... Pulling bullets and shrapnel and whatever else out of Sam..." She didn't dare tell Loki that he was a recurring character in her dreams... Or that he had started to replace Sam in them.

"Does Agent Barton know anything about Lieutenant Foster?"

"Not much, no," Natasha admitted. "Clint and I were on a break... I was in Afghanistan without leave, and he was tracking some people across South America with S.H.I.E.L.D. We were at opposite ends of the world, and when Sam died it just didn't seem relevant anymore... And I could've done without that complication in our relationship... Though I suppose relationships are meant to be complicated." She mentally kicked herself for that final piece of _Cosmo_ magazine wisdom; she was no guru in the relationship department.

"Well, I wouldn't know much about that."

"You mean you never...?" Natasha wasn't sure how to complete the sentence, shocked to find that they had somehow stumbled onto the subject of Loki's love life, or lack thereof.

"No... No, the only woman in my life has always been my mother," Loki said rather sheepishly.

"Thor rarely mentions your mother... He only ever talks about your father."

"Thor always was a daddy's boy," Loki replied, smiling as if remembering an in-joke. "But my mother was such a calming presence in my life... Whenever I was upset as a child she was always the one to find me and talk me round... She knew just what to say."

Natasha was once again rendered speechless, surprised to have been let in on such intimacies... And she had never seen Loki look as human as he did now; his face softened and eyes slightly glazed over with memory. But the god regained himself. "Well, I guess there was one other woman..."

"Oh? What happened?"

"She chose Thor instead," Loki said with a resigned smile.

He looked up and Natasha met his gaze. "She made the wrong call."

-o0o-

Bruce yanked on the cord with an exasperated sigh. After two months, he still couldn't figure out Tony's stupid high-tech blinds. He had an IQ of 187, but a blind with six different cords of the same length and colour baffled him. About to give up, he pulled the one closest to the window for good measure, and the blind shot up, spilling sunlight into the lounge. "Nothing to it," he announced to the empty room. He turned and walked into the lab... And froze.

Natasha was asleep at Loki's bedside, her head on his shoulder, with the sleeping god nuzzling... yes, that was the word, _nuzzling_... into her thick red hair. Checking the coast was clear, the doctor crept to Natasha's side. Whatever she said, she wasn't making his life easy either. He slowly reached out and shook her shoulders. "Natasha...?"

Natasha awoke with a start and swung around off the stool, reaching for her gun. She found Bruce standing at her side, his hands raised in mock-surrender. "Don't shoot," he said, suppressing a grin.

She quickly scanned the lab, fighting back the feelings of disorientation... One side of her face felt strangely warm... Looking down at Loki she saw that his t-shirt sleeve was creased and his head inclined down towards his shoulder. _Shit!_ She couldn't remember falling asleep... But she knew what Bruce had seen. "What time is it?" she whispered.

"Seven-thirty."

"We... We don't need to talk about this, right?" She sincerely prayed that the ground would swallow her.

"Not if you don't want to," Bruce answered carefully. "Patient confidentiality and all that... But there is something I think you should know. Loki was having nightmares again last night..."

"He told me," Natasha said dismissively. "Calling out for Thor again?"

"No," Bruce replied, watching her intently. "He wasn't calling out for Thor. He was calling out for you."

-o0o-

Natasha's finger hovered over the glowing number four as the elevator doors closed. Owing to very recent revelations, she wasn't sure returning to her room and praying Clint wasn't awake yet was a good idea. Instead she hit 'ten' and the elevator lurched upwards. Stark Tower's tenth floor housed the building's communal dining area; there was a large open-plan kitchen and several tables, making the room look more like a high school cafeteria than anything else.

The elevator doors slid open and Natasha found she wasn't alone; Pepper was busy in the kitchen, and she could smell the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee. Pepper turned when she heard the elevator's jingle and stopped.

"Natasha?" she murmured. Natasha knew Pepper was trying to keep a poker face, but she could see the cogs whirring as Pepper tried to add up impossible numbers. "You're up early."

"Yes... Mind if I join you?"

"Sure!" Pepper said brightly, gesturing to the table closest to the kitchen which was already covered in paperwork. "I just made coffee. Want some?"

Natasha nodded and took a seat, stacking a few files to make space at the table. Pepper came to join her with two soup-bowl sized cups of coffee. Natasha pulled a cup towards her, unsure of what to say.

"Look, I don't mean to pry," Pepper said warily. "But if there's anything you want to talk about... It'll never leave this room."

Natasha considered Pepper's offer, staring at her through the coffee fumes. It was Stark Tower's worst kept secret that Pepper Potts knew everything. She was the eyes and ears of the building, and it occurred to Natasha that this might be helpful. Still, she wasn't exactly accustomed to the etiquette of 'girl talk', and wasn't sure how to phrase what it was she needed to know.

"Clint and I argued again last night," she began, afraid that her voice was as steady as Bambi on ice. "He implied that people have been saying things... about Loki... and me."

"Right," Pepper said, tracing the rim of her cup with a tentative finger. It seemed she wasn't going to be forthcoming either.

"Do you know what people think about... the situation?" Natasha pressed, uncertain now whether she actually wanted to know.

"Well, Thor is just so grateful for everything you and Bruce have done for his brother," Pepper replied. "He knows you've managed to get through to Loki when he hasn't, and he's glad of that... Even if a little envious."

Natasha waited, taking in everything Pepper was saying, feeling a strange awe, as if she were consulting an oracle.

"Steve is a pretty unassuming guy," Pepper continued. "He and Thor bonded over the whole culture shock issue... He sees that you're helping Thor and his brother, and that's enough for him... And I suppose Bruce sees you as his clinical partner-in-crime – a sort of protégée – and he's glad he's got you to disguise the fact that he has an awful bedside manner."

Natasha smiled at the last comment. "And Tony?" She suspected there was a reason Pepper was saving him for last. "He has an opinion on everything, you can't tell me he doesn't have one on this."

"Tony's taking it all in his stride... Making jokes as he always does. You know he gave Loki the bill for the window he hurled him through?"

Natasha laughed. "I'm guessing he was only half-joking?"

Pepper smiled, but there was a shadow of concern creeping across her face. "Clint... Clint contacted Tony a few times whilst he was in Chicago," she said, biting her lip and looking into her coffee cup. "He asked Tony to keep an eye on you."

The sickly feeling in Natasha's stomach returned accompanied by a swell of anger... It wasn't directed at Tony, but at Clint... His lack of trust was insulting... And she couldn't believe he'd made one of their friends spy on her in his absence. "Why?" Natasha asked, her voice breaking even on the one syllable.

"I think you know," Pepper said quietly. "I assume that's why we're having this conversation?"

So Pepper really did know everything. Natasha wondered if she knew what Loki was thinking too? "Clint told me that Loki... _likes_ me," she said rather reluctantly. "Do you think he does?" She fought against the flock of mental images of teenage girls mooning over boys at slumber parties.

"It wouldn't surprise me... I think every man in this building has a bit of a crush on you," Pepper replied wryly, although Natasha detected a hint of envy in her voice.

Unsure of what to do with the unexpected compliment, Natasha felt her face grow hot. But she didn't have time to feel embarrassed for long as Pepper almost immediately threw her off guard with a curve-ball question: "Do you like him?"

She stared at Pepper, unable to keep the look of mortification from her face. "I..." but the sentence trailed off into nothingness, dropping from a cliff into the chaotic depths of her mind... And that was when an image came back to her... Right before Bruce had woken her she had been dreaming about Loki... He had been kissing her cheek, her jaw-bone, and her neck... And she hadn't wanted him to stop.

-o0o-

Morning coffee with Pepper found its way into Natasha's daily routine, and this seemed to calm Clint down, now that she was spending time with someone other than Loki. They hadn't argued since the night of their date, and Natasha hadn't found the time or energy to confront him about his spying on her, though she remained wary of Tony. On the third morning, Natasha was washing mugs in the sink when her pager beeped.

"Duty calls, huh?" Pepper asked, handing her a towel. "I'm pretty sure Tony's already in the lab... Let him know he's going to pay for not coming to bed last night."

"Will do," Natasha replied, drying her hands then heading for the elevator.

She arrived in the laboratory corridor to discover Pepper was right; Tony was standing with Bruce, studying a laptop placed on a bench at the back of the lab. Loki was sleeping soundly. When Natasha walked into the lab they both turned to face her, wearing matching grave expressions.

"What's happened?" Natasha asked, her chest tightening as her eyes flickered from Loki to the sombre scientists.

"Tony's been helping me run some tests to try and figure out why Loki's injuries aren't healing," Bruce explained, looking unnervingly bereft.

"And?" Natasha pressed, knowing her heart was on the verge of sinking into her stomach.

Bruce and Tony exchanged despairing glances. "He's dying, Natasha," Bruce said finally. "There's nothing we can do."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey everyone! Firstly, just wow, I am absolutely thrilled with the response to Chapter Nine – I didn't expect it at all. You guys are just plain awesome! Thank you! I was in London last night, seeing Queen + Adam Lambert in concert and when they played 'Who Wants to Live Forever' I thought of this chapter. With that in mind, apologies in advance for this...**

It was like experiencing something close to drowning. A crushing weight descended on Natasha's chest and she felt her throat constrict so that forcing each breath in and out took a great amount of effort. She thought she was about to crumple in on herself as the sinking feelings dragged her down and the edges of her vision began to darken. Yet there was still hope – it shone like sunlight through water – what if Bruce was wrong? What if this was just another one of Tony's elaborate pranks?

"No," she finally choked out. "Hecan't be..."

"His body's been put under too much stress for a prolonged period of time," Tony said, his expression unreadable. "His heart can't take the strain... His vital organs are going to shut down one by one."

Natasha stared at Tony, all hopes of jest quickly receding, but she was determined to find a loophole. "There must be _something_ we can do!"

Bruce and Tony didn't answer. It was like they were standing on the shoreline, watching her frantically thrash about in the water, waiting for her to realise all her efforts were futile.

"Asgard!" Natasha blurted out. "Thor can take him back and – "

She stopped when Bruce shook his head. "Getting to Asgard isn't as straightforward as it used to be. Loki isn't strong enough... The journey would kill him."

"And we're not actually sure if the Asgardians would be able to help him anyway," Tony added solemnly.

"We got to him too late, Natasha," Bruce murmured. "He's just too... _damaged_."

Breathing had become almost impossible. Natasha was sure she was going to throw up as the past ten days flashed before her eyes, tinged with black, like some macabre picture show. "How long?" she gasped, knowing the two scientists knew exactly what she meant.

"A few weeks," Bruce replied. "A month at most."

"Oh God..." Natasha breathed, her eyes settling on the sleeping Loki. "Does he know yet?"

"No... We thought it would be best coming from you," Tony said carefully.

Natasha was too busy concentrating all her efforts on keeping her breathing steady to think about the implications of what Tony had just said, or why he'd said it. "And Thor?" she whispered.

"No one else knows," Bruce answered. "I think we should call a meeting to... discuss our options."

Natasha nodded, brushing a few strands of hair from her face, the movement feeling languid and heavy, as if occurring in slow motion.

"Do you need a minute?" Tony asked, his voice noticeably controlled, trying not to betray any emotion.

"No... No, I'm fine," Natasha replied, sounding equally mechanical.

"I've messaged everyone," Bruce said, stowing away his communication tablet that shone blue through his shirt pocket. "We're gathering in the boardroom in five minutes."

"May as well head there now," Tony said, and with a stiff nod from Bruce they headed towards the lab doors.

Natasha followed after them, giving Loki one final glance as the dark waters closed over her head.

-o0o-

Natasha, Bruce, and Tony stood by the windows of the fifteenth floor boardroom. They had been quickly joined by Pepper, and no one questioned her status as a de facto Avenger. The silence between the four of them filled the room like a noxious gas, and Pepper's worried glances in Natasha's direction told her she didn't know what was going on, but she suspected it was nothing good.

There was a faint hiss as the room's doors slid open and Thor and Steve filed in, with Clint bringing up the rear. Natasha couldn't bear to look Thor in the eye, though she registered that he was carrying Mjolnir... There was no way this meeting was ending well.

"What's happened?" Thor was the first to speak. "Is this about Loki?"

Bruce took a step forward. "Thor, I need you to give Mjolnir to Tony." It was as if he'd read Natasha's thoughts.

"What?" Thor asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why...? What is this?" He looked around the room, searching everyone's face for answers.

"Please, Thor," Bruce said, his voice quiet but firm.

Thor studied Bruce for one long moment, but then answered: "Very well." He walked around the room's dominating table and set his hammer down at Tony's feet, before retreating back to Steve's side. "Now, tell me!" It was almost a demand, his voice louder with obvious anxiety.

It seemed an age before Bruce finally spoke. "Tony and I ran some tests this morning to try and understand why your brother's injuries aren't healing... And things are a lot more serious than we imagined."

"How serious?" Thor asked, the colour draining from his face.

"I'm so sorry, Thor... Loki is dying. I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do."

Natasha heard a gasp and turned to see Pepper clap a hand over her mouth. Steve and Clint both looked down at their feet.

"No!" Thor's eyes moved quickly from Bruce to Tony, his mouth slightly agape. "You're... You're wrong! He's getting better!"

"His regaining consciousness has just disguised a lot of underlying problems," Tony explained. "We didn't realise the extent of the damage until this morning."

"But you have to save him!" Thor cried, his voice strained as he looked desperately from Tony to Bruce, and then his eyes fell on Natasha. "Please! I... I can't lose him again!"

"This is beyond our abilities, Thor," Bruce said quietly.

"Then I'll take him to our father!" Thor said, and Natasha's chest tightened as she recognised the same flicker of hope she had held only minutes ago, but she knew the answer.

"I'm afraid he wouldn't survive the journey to Asgard," Bruce replied, stony-faced, and Natasha knew the final blow had been struck.

"No!" Thor growled, the pain etching deep lines across his face as tears appeared in his eyes. He stared at all of them, silently begging someone to take it all back... And when no answer came, he let out a strangled roar and smashed his fist down on the boardroom table. Cracks appeared in the polished silver, spreading out from Thor's hand in web of ripples, like ice breaking underfoot. Clint and Steve jumped back in shock, and they had only just regained themselves when Thor brought his fist down a second time, harder, and cut a deep ridge in the table, slicing it almost in two.

Tony instinctively moved in front of Pepper. Bruce stayed stoically in place, as if he was expecting it. Thor staggered back from the table with an almost inhuman cry, then dropped to his knees. "Loki!" he howled, and a sharp thud told Natasha he had punched his fist into the floor. Clint and Steve shrank away from him, and it was clear that everyone shared their discomfort, feeling as if they were intruding on Thor's personal grief by even being in the same room. "Brother!" came another choked cry, and Thor suddenly began pummelling the floor repeatedly with his fist.

Natasha was the first to react; she moved around the table to Thor's side. "Tasha!" Clint said in warning, but she ignored him and knelt in front of Thor, aware that everyone else was now holding their breath. The god stayed his fist for a second, looking up at Natasha, his blue eyes swimming with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Thor," she whispered, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I am so, _so _sorry."

For a moment she thought he might strike her, or push her aside, but instead the god threw his huge arms around her and started sobbing into her shoulder. Natasha froze, but when she realised that Thor's vice-like grip was seeking comfort, not violence, she reciprocated, and held him, shaking, in her arms... And then, for the first time in years, Natasha cried. She didn't care that everyone was watching. She didn't care what they might think. Thor's pain had unlocked her own unspeakable pain; it smashed down all the barriers she had so carefully constructed to conceal everything from everyone... and from herself. The tears flowed silently down her cheeks, matting Thor's blonde hair to her face. And so Natasha cried; she cried for Loki, and for Thor, and for everything she couldn't say.

-o0o-

Natasha's hands formed a bowl under the faucet, collecting a reservoir of cool water which she splashed over her face, soothing her burning cheeks and washing away the tears no one was meant to see. She heard Clint's step behind her, and she knew he was in the doorway of the bathroom. He'd followed her back to her room after Tony and Steve had taken Thor away; they'd flown him out to a forest somewhere in Pennsylvania so that he could 'vent' all he needed to without injuring himself or anyone else. Clint, however, was being less considerate and hadn't taken the hint that she wanted to be alone.

"That was pretty brave – how you handled Thor," he commented as she reached for a towel to dry her face.

"Well, someone had to do something," she replied, straightening up.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, filling the whole doorway, trapping her in the bathroom.

"I'm fine," Natasha said in the same emotionless way she had answered Tony. It was becoming a reflex response.

"You know, I get it... We found Loki, took him in, looked after him... You get attached..."

"He's not a stray dog, Clint!" Natasha snapped. "He's a person, and he's Thor's brother... Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"What do you want me to say, Natasha?" Clint demanded, his harsh tone making her flinch. "You want me to pretend like everyone else that this whole situation isn't fucked up? You want me to go and sit in that fucking lab with Loki and reminisce about our time together?"

"Christ, I am so tired of this!" Natasha cried, feeling the unwanted tears returning. "I'm tired of arguing with you all the time! I know you find it difficult, but did you ever once stop to think that I haven't got it easy either?"

"No, don't you do that! Don't you make me out to be the bad guy, because I'm not! You've been spending all your time with the bad guy... I've hardly seen you!"

"Yeah? Well, he'll be dead within the month and you'll have me all to yourself again!" Natasha spat, then stopped, stunned by the venom in her own words... And then the pain swelled in her chest again when she realised the truth in what she'd just said; in a month, Loki would be dead...

"And fucking good riddance!" Clint growled.

In her mind's eye Natasha saw herself draw back her fist and punch Clint square in the face... She heard the crack as his nose broke... felt the warm blood dribbling between her fingers... But in reality, she didn't move. "Get out," she snarled. Clint stayed in the doorway. "I mean it, Clint, get the fuck out of my room... GO!"

-o0o-

Natasha kept her eyes focused on an L-shaped crease in Loki's blankets, mentally mapping its topography. It was all she could do to stop herself from falling apart, and in concentrating she could force the pain in her chest down to a dull ache. She was listening intently to Loki's steady breathing, unconsciously keeping her breaths in time with his, when the rhythm changed followed by a sigh. She looked up to see Loki staring at her with a grin... And her chest became enflamed again; she wished he didn't look so happy to see her.

Loki's grin faded at Natasha's pained expression. "What's happened?" he whispered, pulling himself up into his pillows, wincing as his ribs protested against the movement. "Are you alright?"

Natasha had no idea how to begin. She thought of the way Bruce had phrased the news with her and Thor... She could replicate it word for word, but she knew it wouldn't be enough for what she needed to say.

"Please, Natasha," Loki said, looking dangerously white. "Tell me... What's wrong?"

"You're... You're dying." In her frustration, Natasha blundered in without the grace of any precursors, or anything to ease into the subject... Just the dull blow of the truth.

Loki studied Natasha, his green eyes flashing with something she couldn't place. "Ah," was all he said.

Natasha stared at him, shocked by his apparent calmness and composure. She wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't this.

"I suppose I suspected as much," he said slowly, registering Natasha's confusion. "I could feel it – a sort of instinct... The way a cat crawls away to die."

"You're not crawling anywhere," Natasha murmured, her voice cracking.

"I wouldn't get very far," Loki replied with a sad smile. "Does Thor know?"

"Yes... He... He didn't react very well. He's with Tony and Steve at the moment."

"He didn't break anything expensive did he?" Loki asked, and the glint in his eye told Natasha he was purposefully recalling their first conversation in Stark Tower. It was almost too much for her to bear.

"Just the boardroom table and some floor panelling," Natasha said, each word getting caught in her throat.

"How long have I got?"

"A few weeks. A month at most," Natasha answered, reverting to Bruce's script.

Loki nodded, looking away from her into his lap.

"We'll... We'll make you as comfortable as possible," Natasha whispered. How she despised the phrase 'as comfortable as possible' – she felt ridiculous for having said it. "It... It should be quite painless..." She couldn't continue. Her words were meaningless anyway, because she couldn't say the right ones.

Loki looked up, fixing her with those green eyes, and said softly: "I'm not afraid of dying, Natasha... I only wish I had the time to get to know you better."

And suddenly no words would do anymore. It felt as if words would never matter again. Natasha leaned in to Loki; placing one hand on the side of his face, she pulled him towards her and their lips met. At first Loki was frozen in shock, but then he closed his eyes and his mouth melted against Natasha's, soft and hot, like candle wax. Their lips moulded easily, perfectly together, mouths moving slowly, carefully in sync. As the kiss progressed Loki's uninjured hand crept to Natasha's shoulder, then slid to her neck, his fingers brushing the curls of red hair. Natasha kept her hand pressed against Loki's face, holding his lips hungrily against hers. It was a kiss of despair turned into a kiss of passion... And now Loki knew. She just needed him to know.

Natasha gently pulled away and cradled Loki's face in her hands, their foreheads pressed together, eyes burning into each other. Hot tears dribbled down her cheeks, and although she couldn't see them, she felt Loki's tears, warm against her hands, slipping through her fingers.

"I have to go," she whispered.

She kissed Loki's forehead, then quickly left the lab. Loki never said a word; he understood. Natasha had no memory of her walk down the corridor, and all of a sudden she was in the elevator. It was only then that she realised she had heard the familiar, low hiss of the lounge doors as she had pulled away from Loki... Someone had seen everything.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey everyone. Just a quick, crazy story which I swear is no word of a lie: I went to the York Races on Saturday and in the fifth race there was a horse named 'Loki's Strike' and a horse named 'Romanoff' – neither of them placed, but they came in side by side! My family couldn't understand my extreme fangirl squealing. As always, a massive thank you to all my readers and reviewers – you complete me!**

Natasha's grand plans of going AWOL fell apart as soon as she left Stark Tower, and she found herself wandering aimlessly around Manhattan, trying to immerse herself in the crowds, feeling completely and utterly lost. She was aware that she had been skirting Central Park for the past hour, but she daren't go to the pond; only five days ago she had sat there, bemoaning how complicated her life had become... Now it was worse than she could have ever imagined.

Walking down the familiar sidewalk of 59th Street, she spotted a girl smoking outside a coffee shop, leaning against the wall with one foot hitched up against the stone. In typical gothic fashion, she was wearing a pair of scuffed, black Doc Martens and a black leather jacket, complete with an excess of zips and the obligatory anarchy sign stitched in red onto the sleeve. She was probably about fifteen or sixteen, but her thick, dark make-up and dyed hair obscuring most of her face made her look a lot older.

Without taking a second to consider the plethora of risks or consequences, Natasha marched up to her. "Hey... I couldn't bum one of those off you, could I?"

The girl looked Natasha up and down, her wide eyes lingering on the gun at Natasha's hip. "Are you a cop? I'm eighteen... I swear!"

"No, I promise you I'm not a cop," Natasha replied, with what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Her eyes quickly flitted around the perimeter to check they didn't have an audience. "Just after a smoke."

"Erm... Sure!" the girl said, though her heavily-lined eyes were searching Natasha's face. Natasha thought she saw a flicker of recognition and the girl still clearly thought she was there in some sort of official capacity. Expertly balancing her cigarette between her lips, the girl produced a slightly squashed packet of Marlboro Lights and a silver Zippo lighter, and handed them to Natasha.

Examining the lighter, Natasha's heart jolted when she recognised the Triquetra – the same symbol on Thor's hammer – engraved on one side. Aware that the girl was watching her every move, Natasha lit up and took one long, grateful drag, savouring the bite on her tongue and the burn in the back of her throat. She tilted her head a little to exhale a cloud of smoke with a sigh.

"First time in a while, huh?" the girl asked, studying Natasha with a look between curiosity and awe.

"Yes," Natasha murmured, taking another drag. "I'm having a... a bit of a rough week."

She offered the packet and lighter back to the girl, but she held up her hands. "Nah, you keep them."

"No, please, I can't," Natasha insisted, holding them out again.

"Seriously, have them. It's one less pack for my mom to find... And the lighter is my ex's. Should've got rid of it when I got rid of him."

"Oh, OK..." and before Natasha could finish the girl turned and walked away down the sidewalk. "Thanks!" Natasha called after her, but she had already turned the corner.

Natasha stood there, a cigarette burning between her fingers, once again feeling lost. As the adrenaline flowed away as swiftly as the girl, she felt the pain in her chest returning. What are you doing? she scolded herself. You've started smoking again and got a free pack of Marlboros from a minor... What now? She didn't know what, so she gave in and headed towards Central Park.

-o0o-

Another bullet through the heart. Natasha swung around to her left and delivered a bullet to the shoulder, trying again she got one though his head. She took out the next three with shots to the head, heart, and neck respectively. But the simulation was going too slow for her. She needed the sound of constant gunfire to try and drown out the thoughts jostling for space in her head.

She didn't know how long she had sat on that pond-side bench in Central Park, she only knew that the sky had streaks of sunset red in it – like claw marks – when she returned to Stark Tower. Instead of going to the lab she had descended to the building's basement shooting range and worked her way through at least a dozen simulations. The range was not as high-tech as everything else in Stark Tower – just some expertly rigged cardboard cut-outs with different images projected onto them depending on the simulation. Natasha knew this was because Tony had next to no interest in guns. The current simulation was a projection of a bombed-out post-apocalyptic Manhattan, the targets nothing more than shadows, but they had a pulse Natasha needed to stop dead.

The simulation was clearly reaching its final stages as the shadows started amassing from all angles. Twisting manically from left to right, Natasha went for kill, after kill, after kill, until she was stopped by the dull clicking of her trigger. She was reaching for spare cartridges when a voice sounded over the intercom: "Natasha?"

Natasha whirled around, gun still raised, to find Bruce standing behind the glass at the end of the room... She needed to stop pointing a gun at Bruce.

"End simulation," Natasha muttered, slamming her gun back into its holster as the lights went up. She went to join Bruce in the glass viewing room.

"Now I understand why you weren't answering your pager," Bruce commented. "Hard to hear over all those gunshots." Natasha didn't response, so he continued: "Tony needs my help with something in his lab, and I don't want to leave Loki alone. I've got no idea where Thor and Steve are."

"And I was bottom of your list?" Natasha said with a smirk.

"Just below Clint, yeah," Bruce replied, then stopped when Natasha's smirk vanished. "Oh God, Natasha, I'm sorry... I didn't mean..." he trailed off, his expression guilty.

Natasha suspected there was another reason Bruce had tracked her down to the basement. "Anything else?"

Bruce looked noticeably paler as he shifted uncomfortably on the spot. Natasha knew what he was going to say before he said it: "I saw."

No elaboration was needed; she knew exactly what he meant, and her stomach was gripped by a sickly, sinking feeling. "Did anyone else see?" she breathed.

"No."

"And you haven't told anyone else?"

"Of course not."

Natasha nodded, unsure of where to go from here, waiting for Bruce to pass judgement.

"Just a word of warning," he said slowly. "I realise that Loki is the God of Lies and you've made a living from lying, but the two of you aren't exactly hiding _things_ very well."

"Noted," Natasha said through slightly gritted teeth, her face feeling hot.

"OK." Bruce's expression turned grave. "And Natasha, I really am sorry –"

"Don't," Natasha said sharply. "Please, Bruce... Just don't give me your condolences. Don't treat me like the relative of a patient."

"Alright, alright. I only wanted to say that I'm sorry for getting you involved in all this... I should have asked Tony to assist."

"Don't beat yourself up," Natasha said with a tired smile. "Even if you had asked Tony, something tells me this would've happened anyway."

-o0o-

Loki's face brightened as soon as Natasha entered the lab, and for a split second it made her forget everything else... But it was only a fleeting feeling. She pulled up a stool at his side.

"Dr. Banner found you then?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Where did you go?"

"Central Park. There's a pond just off 59th Street. It's nice there... I thought it would calm me down."

"Did it?"

"... No. I spent a few hours in the basement shooting range. That calmed me down." They both managed a smile. "Are you OK?" Natasha asked meekly. She knew it was a stupid question, but her insides ached when she realised she had abandoned him for the whole day.

"Just don't disappear like that again... Please," Loki replied softly.

She wanted to kiss him again... to apologise, and to comfort him because words always failed, but Bruce's warning flashed in her mind: _the two of you aren't exactly hiding things very well... _Her thoughts had started down a 'to hell with Bruce' track when Loki froze, his wide eyes staring behind her into the corridor. Natasha followed his gaze and gasped; Steve was staggering down the corridor, supporting a semi-conscious Thor, the god's arm wrapped around his shoulder.

Natasha leapt up and went to meet them at the lab doors. "Steve? Thor? What happened?"

"We just went for a couple of beers..." Steve began, his voice panicked.

"_A couple of beers?_" Natasha repeated, raising an eyebrow as she crouched in front of them, trying to see Thor's face.

"Well, I had a couple of beers... I... I lost track of how many Thor had... I didn't realise he hadn't eaten at all today!" Steve explained, and there was something of a scared schoolboy about him.

Natasha checked Thor's pulse. "Thor? Can you hear me?" She got a groan in response, and was shocked to see that Thor's face had actually taken on a greenish tint; he looked as bad as she felt.

"I... I didn't know what to do... I didn't want to leave him in his room..." Steve's voice was strained with supporting Thor's weight.

"Brother?"

Natasha almost fell back when Thor momentarily revived. He suddenly straightened up and lumbered towards Loki, who was a deathly shade of white. "Loki, I –" But Thor never reached his bedside; he turned to the table and grabbed hold of the large metal basin that had once held water, and began vomiting noisily into it.

"Shit! Thor..." Natasha despairingly rushed to the god's side. She gently pulled the blonde hair away from his face as he continued to throw up.

Steve came to Thor's other side and began to rub his shaking shoulders. "Easy, buddy... Easy..."

Natasha could feel Loki's horror emanating from him in waves, and she was desperate to move Thor out of the lab; she didn't want Loki to see this. Once Thor had finished and was sinking back into unconsciousness, she slid his arm over her shoulder. "We'll take him into the lounge," she said to Steve, who followed suit and slipped under Thor's arm.

They half-carried the god into the lounge and settled him on one of the couches. Natasha carefully pulled off his boots whilst Steve covered him with the knitted quilt Pepper had left draped over the sofa's back.

"I hate seeing him like this," Steve murmured, tucking the quilt under Thor's chin. Thor shifted and let out a whimper like a wounded dog.

"I take it _you_ didn't suggest going for a drink?"

"No... Thor was determined to go, and I didn't want him there by himself," Steve answered as Natasha pulled the quilt over Thor's feet. She looked up to find Steve watching her furtively. "I... I know you don't believe in God, Natasha, but I want you to know that I've been praying for you... For all of you."

Natasha knew Steve meant well, but it was a punch in the gut nonetheless. Steve went to church every Sunday with a few elderly parishioners he had known in the forties, but she had never had that kind of faith. Moreover, Steve might be a 'pretty unassuming guy', as Pepper had put it, but he wasn't stupid. 'For all of you' presumably meant Loki, Thor, and her – the patient, the brother, and the... She didn't want to think about that.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Steve said, clearly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

"No... It's fine, Steve," Natasha replied, straightening up, then added in a warmer tone: "But thank you."

Steve nodded. "Are you going to be OK here? I don't mind staying."

"I'm sure I can manage," she answered wryly. "But maybe you could stop by Tony's lab and let him and Bruce know what's happened?"

"Sure," Steve replied, and they headed back into the lab.

Not one to overstay his welcome, Steve bid Natasha and Loki goodnight, then disappeared down the corridor. Loki looked very shaken as Natasha returned to her stool, and she was worried he was going to pass out.

"Is Thor going to be alright?" he asked, glancing towards the lounge doors.

"Yes, he just needs to sleep it off," Natasha replied. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"No need to apologise," Loki said with a small smile. "I've seen him in worse drunken stupors. I'm usually the one carrying him home and paying off Heimdall so he won't tell our father..." Loki stopped, suspecting Natasha wasn't in the mood for such stories. "Are you alright?"

Natasha sighed, massaging her temples. "Steve just brought religion into this, and it's a little more than I can handle right now."

"You don't believe in a God?"

"No."

"You didn't, even as a child?"

"Well, I guess... We don't really do religion by halves in Russia." Natasha remembered the Russian Orthodox churches of her childhood – everything was gilded with gold. Golden, pointed domes covered in snow, intricately carved red and blue icons in gold frames, and the glinting golden hilt of Archangel Michael's sword, painted as he was above the door of some half-forgotten church in Moscow. "But I don't really see the point in any of it," Natasha said honestly. "What do Asgardians believe in?"

"I suppose we have a similar system to the Midgardian concepts of Heaven and Hell," Loki replied slowly. "The good go to Valhalla and the... _bad_ go to Helheim."

Natasha knew what Loki was thinking. "Loki –"

"Monsters don't belong in Valhalla, Natasha," Loki said curtly.

And suddenly Natasha was transported back two months ago to Loki's cell... She was the one who had called him a monster... She told herself she had only said it in order to get information, but back then she had meant it. "You're... You're not a monster," she said, desperately seeking atonement.

"All the people I've killed –"

"I've killed people too," Natasha cut in, her voice rising. "Innocent people... _children_... Do you think I'm a monster?"

Loki studied her for a long time before answering: "No... Of course not."

"Well, there you go," Natasha said, with a forced shrug.

They both sat in silence for a few long moments, and Natasha reverted to her method of focusing on the creases in Loki's blankets to control the indefatigable ache.

"I never apologised," Loki said, breaking the silence. "For all the things I said when you came to me in my cage."

Natasha looked up at Loki in shock. "You don't have to –"

"But I mean it... I'm sorry, Natasha."

"I wasn't exactly on my best behaviour either," Natasha replied knowingly.

"That's when I realised, you know," Loki said, being purposefully cryptic. "As soon as you tricked me... I knew I had finally met my match."

Natasha couldn't help but smile. "Did anyone tell you that your heart stopped beating on the jet, when we were flying you to Stark Tower?"

"Yes, Thor mentioned it... Why?"

"I resuscitated you... And I suppose that's when I knew. When I couldn't bear the thought of your heart never beating again... I... I still can't bear the thought..." Natasha stopped, the pain in her chest returned with renewed gusto, and the events of the day collapsed down upon her. She felt exhausted... emotionally drained... and worse than that, she felt utterly useless. She hadn't been able to save Sam, and now she knew she was going to lose both Loki and Clint. It was like staring into the heart of a cold, dark abyss. Her eyes stung with fresh tears, and now she felt a little pathetic; she'd cried more today than she had done in the past ten years. Loki had once called her a 'child at prayer', now she was that child again; she just wanted the pain to go away, and for some divine force to magically make it all better.

Sensing her obvious anguish, Loki held out his arm. "Come here," he murmured.

Thrown by this unexpected gesture of tenderness, Natasha simply stared reluctantly at him, but then gave in; she moved closer and gently laid her head on his chest, careful not to put too much pressure on his ribs. Loki wrapped his arm around her, holding her against him, and kissed her forehead. Natasha closed her eyes, savouring the warmth of his chest against her cheek, listening to the soft thud of his heart.

"It's alright," Loki whispered soothingly. "It's alright..." He said it over and over again like a calming mantra. Natasha was aware of the bitter irony of being comforted by someone who only had weeks left to live... And no matter how many times he said it was alright, they both knew it wasn't. It wasn't alright; but for now, this was enough.

-o0o-

Bruce didn't say a word when Natasha appeared in the lounge with an overnight bag. He went to fetch some spare bedding from his laundry cupboard and silently helped her lay it out on the sofa. For the next three days, Natasha left the lab only to shower and change. Clint had made it clear that they officially weren't speaking, and although his silent treatment seemed childish, Natasha treated it like a blessing in disguise.

Thor and Loki were constantly antagonising each other; Loki couldn't handle Thor's devastation and Thor, in turn, couldn't understand Loki's quiet acceptance of his fate, so much so that Loki had developed a habit of pretending to be asleep whenever Thor walked into the lab. Pepper took it upon herself to make sure Thor and Natasha were eating properly and getting enough sleep. Natasha hated that she was being treated as a de facto relative, and tried to direct all of Pepper's attentions onto Thor. As a result, Natasha found that she was subsisting on coffee, cigarettes, and the sleeping pills Bruce gave her that were yet to work. Bruce was spending most of his time in Tony's lab working on some new 'super secret' project. He and Natasha argued when she accused him of writing Loki off as a failed experiment and moving on to the next one.

On the fourth morning, Natasha woke at 5 am after only an hour of sleep. Unable to get comfortable, she returned to her room on the fourth floor and drew herself a bath. In the grey dawn light she lay there until the water was cold, smoking her way through a packet of Marlboro Lights.

-o0o-

After finally hauling herself out of the bath, Natasha fell asleep on her bed, still wrapped in her towel; she hadn't realised just how uncomfortable the sofas in Bruce's lounge were until that point. Waking again at 10 am, she quickly dressed and returned to the eighth floor. Walking down the corridor towards the lab doors, she thought she heard something moving above her. She looked up, scrutinising the two large pipes that ran the length of the corridor; she was certain she saw movement in the shadows beyond them, but shrugged it off as a combination of bad plumbing and sleep deprivation.

Loki was alone in the lab, and he gave her his signature smile in greeting.

"Morning," Natasha said wearily, taking a seat. "Where is everyone?"

"I believe Miss Potts is trying to force-feed my brother some of her speciality pancakes in the dining room, and Dr. Banner and Tony are working in the lounge," Loki replied. "They think if they work here you won't shout at them."

"Bruce told you about that, huh?" Natasha asked, remembering the rather fierce argument in Tony's lab... Although 'argument' maybe wasn't the right word; she had yelled at Bruce and he had simply stood there, not saying a word.

"Tony did. Apparently it was quite frightening," Loki said, hiding a smile, then added quietly: "Another bad night?"

"Better than the last one."

"Dr. Banner is worried about you," Loki said carefully. "He says you're not eating... not sleeping..." When Natasha didn't say anything he pressed: "_I'm_ worried about you."

"I'm fine." It really was becoming a reflex response. But she didn't have the expression to match.

"Please, Natasha, I'm not worth starving yourself over," Loki said firmly. "Hurting yourself isn't going to make me any better."

The truth of Loki's words twisted like a knife in her chest, and she blinked back the tears, bitterly angry with herself for already being on the verge of a nervous breakdown before midday.

"Come now," Loki said softly. "I've had Thor weeping all over me all week, I can't lose you too."

Loki carefully lifted his bandaged hand and placed the back of it against Natasha's cheek. The bandages were soft against her skin, and the cool metal of the splints was soothing. She reached up and laid her hand over his, holding it against her cheek with a small smile.

Suddenly there was a loud clank followed by a thud. Natasha looked towards the corridor just in time to see Clint drop to the floor outside the lab doors. He burst into the lab with a roar, his eyes on fire. "YOU SLY SON OF A BITCH!" Bruce and Tony appeared from the lounge just as Clint pounced on Loki, his fingers wrapping around his neck.

Natasha moved so fast that not even she, let alone anyone else, could register her movements. In an instant she had Clint pinned against the glass, her knife at his throat. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears, her chest rose and fell rapidly, and hot, angry tears began forming in the corners of her eyes, which were fixed on Clint's. Nobody moved and the only sound was Loki's distressed panting.

Despite the blade grazing his skin, Clint smirked. "You gonna kill me, Tasha?" he murmured.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey everyone, not much to add this time, I just want to say hello to all my readers and reviewers *waves manically*, you guys are all amazing and your continued support means the world to me!**

Natasha knew her reaction hadn't been wholly conscious, but rooted in some deep, animalistic instinct... If Clint could get territorial, so could she. _You gonna kill me, Tasha?_ Clint's jeer resounded in her head... In those first few moments, in that flash of white hot rage, she knew she had wanted to kill him. And now, for the first time she could remember, she actually hated him.

If Clint wanted to push her away, it was well within his power to do so, but he was purposefully letting her hold him against the glass, confronting her with his smirk. He was clearly revelling in a smug satisfaction at her response, and that made her shiver internally. His blue eyes burned right through her, but she couldn't look away, and she tried to keep her own searing gaze as steady as the hand that held the knife at his throat.

Suddenly Natasha felt a hand on her arm, and the shock returned her to the world outside Clint's burning blue eyes and mocking grin. Whipping her head to the side she found the hand belonged to Tony. "Natasha," he said carefully. "Let him go."

Natasha turned back to Clint, gripping her knife even tighter, but after another long moment, when she feared Tony might physically intervene, she reluctantly took a step back. Her hand dropped like a dead weight at her side and the knife slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor, though the sound seemed somehow distant and removed.

Clint's hands jumped to his neck and he began to massage the skin. Natasha couldn't bear to look at him. Turning she saw that Bruce had clamped an oxygen mask over Loki's nose and mouth and was trying to calm the god down. Loki's chest rose and fell in a quick, irregular tempo and his wide, green eyes locked on Natasha, begging her not to disappear again. Seeing him in such a state made pain flood Natasha's chest, and she made to go to him when she heard Clint mutter behind her: "I knew you didn't have it in you."

Something in Natasha snapped. She whirled around and, throwing her whole body weight into her clenched fist, punched Clint in the face with such force that he was thrown back against the glass which cracked along with his nose. Clint cried out, his hands wildly clutching at his face as dark red blood began to dribble through his fingers, and he slid down the glass, crumpling to the floor.

Having no fight left in her, Natasha took flight. Throwing herself through the lab doors, she thundered down the corridor to the elevator, wanting to put as much distance as possible between herself and Clint.

-o0o-

Natasha watched the reflection of the sky's solitary cloud slide lazily over the surface of the pond. She flexed her fingers again, trying to relieve the stinging in her knuckles which looked red and raw, stained as they were with Clint's blood. A shadow suddenly moved over the sun, and she looked up to find Thor standing in front of her. She was shocked to see him, but probably not as shocked as some of the idle park-goers who had stopped to stare at this curious man in silver armour, complete with hammer and red cloak.

"May I join you?" Thor asked, unable to disguise the element of caution in his voice.

"Of course," Natasha replied, awkwardly gesturing to the rest of the bench.

Thor took a seat at her side. "Dr. Banner asked me to give this to you," he said, producing a small cosmetics pot. "For your hand."

"Thanks." Natasha took the pot, aware of where this conversation was inevitably heading. Unscrewing the lid she was hit by the content's strong, sun cream-like fragrance. She carefully daubed the white cream onto her knuckles and it had an instant soothing effect. "Is Loki OK?" she murmured, casually wiping her fingers on her pants.

"Yes... He's sleeping now," Thor answered quietly.

Natasha took this to mean that Bruce had had to sedate him, only Thor didn't want to admit to it. There was a silence where they both stared intently into the depths of the pond in front of them. Natasha knew she and Thor now had a lot more in common that either of them was willing to acknowledge, but she had no idea what to say to him.

"You saved my brother's life... again," Thor said, turning back to Natasha with a small smile. "Thank you."

No, I delayed his death by a couple of weeks, Natasha thought bitterly, though she daren't vocalise that thought. "I take it Clint has a date with Mjolnir in the near future?" Natasha asked, trying to sound light-hearted, but each word dropped flat and heavy from her lips.

"From what I gather, you already did my job for me," Thor replied, and there was an actual twinkle in his blue eyes. "Tony says it was a spectacular effort."

Natasha smiled, but she couldn't bear to bring herself in on the joke... Not when she knew her fist had been an effective full stop, ending her and Clint's relationship in a heartbeat. Another silence fell over them.

Natasha was floundering, trying to think of something to say, but Thor rescued the conversation once again: "My brother assumes that because of my stature, I am stupid... But when I arrived, Loki had no thoughts of himself, he only wanted to know that you were safe. He told me where to find you... Though I did check the shooting range first."

Natasha sensed that Thor wasn't quite finished, so she stayed quiet.

"I know that Loki is extremely fond of you, and I'm sure you're aware that he is rarely fond of anything... It's also not lost on me that he's always awake whenever you're in the laboratory, but he often drops off whenever I step out of the elevator."

Ah. So Thor knew. Clint had just found out. Bruce saw it for himself. Steve clearly knew, and Tony and Pepper no doubt knew too... She and Loki were Stark Tower's new worst kept secret.

"Did Loki ever tell you about Sif?" Thor asked, throwing Natasha with the change of subject.

"No... I don't think so," Natasha answered, wondering where Thor was going with this.

"Sif is an Asgardian maiden. She grew up with Loki and I... And, well, many years ago now, Loki developed quite an interest in her."

Natasha's territorial instincts flared up again, and she was stunned to find that the idea of Loki liking anyone else actually _bothered_ her, but she quickly pushed those feelings aside. She nodded, urging Thor to continue.

"My brother, being the way he is, didn't exactly approach the situation in a suitable way."

Natasha was sure she was about to become privy to one of Asgard's biggest in-jokes. "Oh... What did he do?"

"He... He cut off all her hair," Thor replied, clearly suppressing a grin.

"Smooth," Natasha said, hiding a grin of her own. "Did it grow back?"

"Loki gave her a new head of hair – jet black like his own – but Sif never really forgave him."

Remembering her late night conversation with Loki last week, Natasha made the leap, and she knew how the story really ended: _She chose Thor instead_. She decided not to press Thor on this detail.

"So Loki has never really had much luck where women are concerned," Thor went on. "It doesn't surprise me that he's... well, found himself in another difficult situation. Sif was rather cruel to him after the incident, and all I ask, Natasha, is that you be wary of my brother's feelings... If you don't reciprocate his affection, I'd rather you didn't encourage him to think otherwise."

Natasha found herself admiring Thor's stepping up to his status as Loki's big brother and therefore protector, but she realised he had started barking up the wrong tree. "You're assuming this is all one-sided?" she asked carefully.

"No, not necessarily," Thor replied, being equally careful. "I just didn't wish to offend... owing to your relationship with Agent Barton."

"Oh... I don't think there is a relationship anymore," Natasha said, trying desperately to keep her voice even. Somehow saying it out loud made it real, a concrete fact, and she wasn't sure she was ready to accept it yet.

"I'm sorry to hear it," Thor said sincerely. "And I apologise for my brother's hand in that."

"It's not Loki's fault," Natasha said, almost immediately, surprised by the conviction in her voice. She realised she would fiercely defend Loki's innocence in all this to the death... And then it loomed larger than ever before, the black mark hanging over everything; Loki's fate that united her and Thor in grief... But still neither of them would acknowledge it.

"Are you ready to return to Stark Tower?" Thor asked, signalling the end of their conversation before they had to face the real issue.

Natasha nodded; they both rose from the bench and headed towards the park's exit. They walked back to Stark Tower mostly in silence, occasionally commenting on the weather of all things. Natasha distracted herself by clocking everyone's reaction to Thor as he strode down the sidewalk, red cloak billowing behind him in the light breeze.

When they arrived in the laboratory corridor they found Tony repairing the crack in the glass with a resin gun, which he waved cheerfully at them in greeting. Bruce was at Loki's bedside, studying the god's monitors. Loki looked peaceful in sleep, but his neck bore several unnerving, red scratches... Natasha noticed them, but quickly looked away. "Where's Clint?"

"He took off," Bruce replied quietly. "I, er, offered to patch him up, but he wasn't having any of it... You broke his nose in three places. I've never seen anyone do that before."

Natasha wondered if this was actually a compliment. "He took off," she repeated. "Took off where?"

Bruce looked nervously over at Tony before answering: "We don't know."

-o0o-

"For God's sake, please... Just tell me where you are!"

"... Sao Paulo."

"What? Sao Paulo, _Brazil_? What are you doing in South America?"

"It was the last place I went when you started falling for someone else."

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be."

"When are you coming back?"

"I don't know."

"Clint..."

"You punched me in the face, Tasha! I take it that was your way of dumping me?"

"You tried to strangle a dying man!"

"Don't fucking bring him into this... And you didn't answer my question... Are we done?"

"I... I don't... I just don't like the person you've become..."

"Oh? You prefer a murdering psychopath with serious Daddy issues?"

"Well he's been a lot fucking better behaved than you have this past month! ... Clint? ... Clint! ... Fuck."

-o0o-

Natasha carefully dabbed anti-septic on the red graze just below Loki's jaw. The god winced, but didn't say anything. Keeping his head still, he glanced at Natasha and it only took one sideways look to guess what she was thinking. Loki was becoming disturbingly telepathic when it came to Natasha's thoughts.

"It's not your fault," he said gently.

"I shouldn't have even let Clint get within five feet of your bed," Natasha replied, avoiding Loki's gaze. "I should've been quicker."

Loki opened his mouth to reply, but decided against it. He knew the subject of Clint was dangerous territory, now that he and Natasha were officially finished. The sombre silence that followed was interrupted by Pepper appearing from the lounge with a mug of coffee and a plate of toasted bagels smothered in cream cheese. She came to Natasha's side and set them down on the table next to her.

Natasha knew Loki had spoken to Pepper about her appalling eating habits, and she had received a lecture on how coffee with cream was not a meal substitute. Feeling ganged up on and slightly betrayed, Natasha had compromised on eating what was put in front of her as long as coffee was present. Now Pepper stood over her like a stern mother, and Natasha knew she wouldn't leave until she had seen her take a bite.

As if saved by the bell, Natasha's pager beeped. Unclipping it from her belt, she studied in curiously. "Bruce wants to see me in Tony's lab... Ugh, I have more important things to do than help them with their latest science fair project!"

"Bruce wouldn't page you unless it was important," Pepper murmured.

Pepper clearly hadn't got the memo about Bruce's 3 am page last week... That memory was bittersweet. Natasha tried to keep her expression blank. "OK, well if I'm not back in an hour, send a search party."

"Are you kidding? I'll be coming after you with your bagels in twenty minutes," Pepper grinned.

Tony's lab was on split levels, taking up all of Stark Tower's eleventh and twelfth floors. Entering through the doors on the lower level, Natasha saw Bruce and Tony standing up on the mezzanine. "This better be good!" she called up to them. If tony had spent the week working on some goofy invention which was meant to cheer her up, he was going to find the barrel of her gun beneath his chin.

The two scientists came down the stairs to meet her and both looked unmistakably excited.

"What?" Natasha asked, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

Tony looked eagerly at Bruce, as if asking his permission to deliver the news. Bruce nodded, and Tony turned back to Natasha with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "We think we've found a way to save Loki."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey guys! I'll keep this short and sweet – I just want to say another huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers; you guys are helping to preserve what little sanity I have left! **

"Oh my God," were the first words out of Natasha's mouth, and they seemed the most fitting. "Seriously?" she whispered, her heart pounding against her ribs as she looked from Tony to Bruce; always naturally suspicious, part of her wondered whether this was a sick joke. But the scientists kept grinning.

"Seriously," Bruce said, and he looked to Tony to elaborate.

Tony moved over to a circular glass table in the corner of the lower floor. As Bruce and Natasha came to join him, he produced an impossibly-thin silver memory stick and slotted it into the USB port at the centre of the table. A semi-transparent blue screen instantly appeared, suspended over the table.

"Firstly, a confession," Tony began. "I, er, found something on the roof of Stark Tower during the clean-up two months ago."

He hit a button on the table's frosted glass keypad and a tiny sliver of glowing blue ice appeared on the screen, rotating slowly.

"It kind of looks like..." Natasha stopped for fear of sounding stupid.

"The Tesseract?" Tony offered, and Natasha nodded. "That's because it is... Well, part of it. Only a miniscule splinter though. This image is magnified – the actual specimen is just over a millimetre in length."

"What?" Natasha gasped, trying desperately to follow what Tony was saying. "Part of the Tesseract _broke off_?"

"We think it happened when you shut down the generator," Bruce explained. "The rupture of the portal returned an energy surge, producing this splinter."

"But the Tesseract still worked, even with a piece of it missing?" Natasha said, her point hovering between a statement and a question.

"Yes, though Thor did comment that it was a bumpy ride back to Asgard," Tony replied. "We're pretty sure the Tesseract healed its own wound, as it were – like a lizard regrows a leg."

"And now this splinter has become its own energy source, independent of the Tesseract," Bruce continued. "Which is where Loki comes in."

Natasha's heart jolted, a breath getting caught in her throat. "OK..."

"The main problem is Loki's heart," Tony said, taking the lead. "It's weakened and out of sync, but if we can give it a permanent boost – a new lease of life – the rest of his body will follow. So we need..."

He hit another button and two squares of metal slid onto the screen from opposite corners, the splinter shrank down to scale, and the squares enclosed it like a box.

"A pacemaker fit for a god," Bruce finished.

Natasha suspected the two of them had been rehearsing the theatrics of their discovery, but she wasn't going to complain. A warm feeling spread from her stomach and she began to feel giddy.

"Now, standard pacemakers use lithium batteries," Bruce said, beginning to talk with his hands, which he only did when he was truly excited by something. "They need to be replaced every four years or so, but because we're using a self-renewing energy source, there'll be no need for that, and the pacemaker will have an infinite life-span."

"We've based our pacemaker on the standard dual-chamber model, but with a twist - its focus would be on regeneration as well as resynchronisation," Tony added.

Natasha stared at the small, life-saving box slowly rotating on the screen and she felt the tears creep into her eyes; it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. "How long will it take you to make it?"

Tony and Bruce exchanged conspiratorial glances.

"You've already made it, haven't you?" Natasha murmured, almost laughing.

"Yes," Bruce answered, grinning. "We added the finishing touches this morning. We should be ready to operate by the end of the week."

"Wait..." Natasha said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you two actually, you know, _qualified_ to perform this procedure?"

"I've performed heart surgery on myself," Tony said pointedly.

Bruce suppressed a chuckle. "But seriously, I've got a couple of buddies over at Mount Sinai and they've been letting Tony and I observe some late night surgeries this week."

"So that's where you two have been sneaking off to?" Natasha said with a smirk. "Pepper will be relieved."

"Ah, am I in trouble?" Tony asked, looking a little scared at the prospect of Pepper's wrath.

"Yeah, just don't tell her I gave you a heads up!" Natasha replied. "So, if we go ahead with this, what are Loki's chances?" If being a nurse had taught her anything, it was that nothing was guaranteed.

"The odds are fifty-fifty of Loki surviving the procedure," Tony answered. "Pushing sixty-forty if we operate in the next two days. The odds of it actually working are a little lower, but for that we'll just have to wait and see."

Natasha nodded. The odds weren't perfect, but that didn't matter. Hope had returned; it burst like sunlight through water. She saw flecks of gold, glinting in her vision, as her head broke the surface of the water, and for the first time that week she came up for air... Loki had a chance, and now the future was no longer something to be looked at as a deadly, deserted wasteland.

The joy of renewed hope washed over Natasha, and she was stuck somewhere between laughing and crying. Losing all sense of herself, she stepped around the table and threw her arms around Tony, pulling him into a crushing hug. "Thank you," she mumbled into his shoulder, the first tear sliding down her cheek.

"No sweat, kid," Tony said warmly. "It's just great to see you smiling again."

Pulling away from Tony and hastily wiping her eyes, Natasha turned to Bruce. "I... I yelled at you," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Bruce. Why didn't you tell me this was what you were working on?"

"We didn't want to get your hopes up," Bruce replied. "Not until we were sure it had a chance of working."

Natasha smiled, but now she sensed some discomfort between the scientists... and in a second she knew what it was. "Fury doesn't know anything about this, does he?"

"Er, no, he does not," came the answer from Tony.

"But we have to tell him."

"That's debatable," Tony replied quickly.

"No, it's not, Tony," Bruce said with a sigh. "We'll send him all our data for the pacemaker and the procedure... But first, I think there's someone more important who needs this news." He winked at Natasha.

-o0o-

"Tony and I can go and pick up the equipment from Mount Sinai tonight, and we've got it until the end of the week. The procedure itself is relatively simple. It can be done under general anaesthetic and, if there aren't any complications, should take about two hours." Bruce nodded to Tony and he hit a button; the screen suspended over Loki's bed vanished. "If all goes well, we'll schedule for tomorrow afternoon." Bruce concluded.

The lab's inhabitants were left in a contented silence, which was then broken by Thor clapping Tony on the back with a chuckle. "Thank you, Tony! Doctor!" He shook Bruce's hand vigorously and turned to Loki, beaming. Loki returned a genuinely affectionate smile with a nod.

Natasha sat at Loki's side, their arms touching, though their hands stayed warily apart. She could feel a warm glow emanating from everyone in the room. As if to counteract the scene in the boardroom a week ago, they had invited Steve and Pepper along to hear the news. Both were grinning along with Thor, and Natasha was sure they were all going to start purring soon.

She saw Bruce glance over in her direction. "Right, Tony and I are going to send S.H.I.E.L.D. all this information."

He looked to Thor, who quickly cottoned on. "I think I'll join you!" the god said, trying not to look over at his brother.

"Me too," Steve echoed.

"OK," Tony said, drawing out the second syllable, raising an eyebrow. "I think the technology might be a bit beyond –" Bruce nudged him in the ribs. "Oh! Right... Good."

"And I have some paperwork," Pepper chimed. "A lot of paperwork."

There was something clownish in the way they all piled out of the lab, almost tripping over each other. They couldn't have made it any more obvious, but Natasha smiled nonetheless as the giddy feeling once again swelled in her stomach.

She turned to Loki as another tear dribbled down her cheek. "God, I'm a mess," she sighed, quickly wiping away the tear. "This is what you've reduced me to. I hope you're happy!" But she smiled even as she said it.

"You look so beautiful when you smile," Loki commented, almost bashfully.

At first Natasha was thrown by the unexpected compliment, but then she leaned in closer to Loki. He, too, leaned towards her. They peered at each other a little apprehensively – they hadn't kissed since that black morning a week ago – but then gave in to instinct and their lips met. The last kiss had been one of desperation, mourning the inevitable end of everything, but this kiss, fuelled by hope, was one of desire, and a celebration of the possible start of something.

Natasha kept one hand flat against Loki's chest and the other slid to his neck, her fingers getting tangled in his dark hair. Mirroring her movements, Loki placed his uninjured hand on Natasha's neck, his thumb brushing her jawbone. Natasha savoured the heat of Loki's lips against hers, and their tongues had just tentatively touched when they heard the lab doors open. Jumping apart, they found Tony grinning at them.

"Don't mind me!" he said cheerfully. "Forgot my memory stick!" He quickly yanked his silver memory stick out of the USB port on the table to Loki's right and waved it at them in triumph, before rushing back out of the lab.

Loki watched him walk down the corridor with a look that could only be described as pure horror.

"There's no need to look so mortified," Natasha said with a smirk. "They all know."

Loki turned to her, his horror unfading. "Thor _knows_?" he whispered.

"Yes, and you need to give your big brother more credit. We had a little chat; he's going to kick my ass if I put a foot wrong with you."

"Thor threatening violence, why doesn't that surprise me?" Loki said, regaining himself.

"Does it bother you? Everyone knowing?" Natasha murmured.

"...No. Does it bother you?"

"No."

They both smiled, and they were still smiling when their lips met again.

-o0o-

The Avengers were sitting around the newly repaired boardroom table, staring at the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo flashing on the room's widescreen. Any minute now the call from Fury would come in, and the tension had subdued them all into silence. This silence was suddenly broken by a shrill chime, and Nick Fury's face appeared on the screen. Natasha's heart sank into her stomach; the director was glaring down at them with his one visible eye, his mouth twisted into a grimace.

Tony leapt up. "I take it that's a 'no'?"

"Sit your ass down, Stark," Fury ordered. "And you're on a warning for not immediately reporting your discovery."

Tony clearly couldn't care less about Fury's warning. He was about to reply, but Fury spoke over him: "I cannot allow you to use this technology."

"Then you condemn my brother to death!" Thor growled, jumping up. Natasha was sure Mjolnir was going to be flying through the screen at any moment.

"There is no telling what this 'pacemaker' will do to Loki," Fury continued, ignoring Thor. "I can't let you put such volatile technology inside such a volatile being. Imagine the magnifying effect it could have on his abilities. We only just defeated him the first time round."

And suddenly everyone was on their feet.

"You're assuming he'll turn against us?" Natasha demanded.

"Or you don't think he deserves to live?" Thor yelled.

"This is my decision," Fury said stoically, looking right through all of them. "The risk is too great. I will not put our planet in danger for the sake of one life."

"OK, how about this?" Tony strode right up to the screen, staring Fury down. "Either you let us do this through the proper channels, or I put Stark Tower on lock-down and we do it anyway."

"Stark, I have –"

"Then I quit," Steve said, cutting Fury off.

Everyone turned to look at the so-far silent Captain.

"What was that, Rogers?" Fury barked.

"If you don't give us this chance to save Loki's life, then I'm handing in my notice." Steve answered firmly. "I don't want anything more to do with the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. and you can leave me back where you found me."

Everyone turned back to Fury, their eyes filled with the same fire as Steve's, silently communicating that he spoke for all of them.

Fury stared incredulously at the Avengers assembled in front of him, united in protest. "Every single one of you would put yourselves on the line for Loki?"

The Avengers exchanged affirmative glances.

"Yes, Sir," Steve replied.

Fury was quiet for an agonisingly long time, and then he spoke, slowly and with venom: "Then I have some calls to make. Expect my final decision in an hour."

Before anyone could reply, Fury vanished from the screen, and the room erupted with obscenities.

-o0o-

Natasha focused on her warped reflection in the boardroom table's silver surface. It was as if Fury had actually torn a hole in her chest and she was back, thrashing about in the depths again, as the icy water poured inside her. The further she sank, the dimmer the hopeful sunlight became. She was snapped from her watery nightmare when Tony arrived in the boardroom and slammed his communication tablet down on the table.

"You know why Fury doesn't want us to do this?" he snapped. "Because he always wanted Loki dead!"

"What are you talking about, Tony?" Bruce asked wearily, rubbing his temple.

"I just broke into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainframe. I should've done it the second we were sent to pick up Loki!" Tony replied, then looked to Natasha. "Fury never thought Bruce and Natasha were up to the job. He specifically stated in an email that all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and medics weren't allowed to interfere. He didn't think we'd be able to save Loki. He wanted him to die on our watch so S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't have to kill him!"

There were gasps and cries of protest, but Natasha believed every word. Everything made sense now. Why else would Fury have given them Loki, and trusted a dangerously ill man in the hands of a physicist and a one-time nurse? The betrayal cut deep, wrenching the hole in her chest even wider, and her fingers unconsciously bunched into fists.

Tony was about to continue when another shrill chime sounded and Fury appeared on the screen. Natasha swung around to meet him. "You _bastard_!" She pictured herself pulling Fury out of the screen by his throat and sinking her knife into his neck.

"Mr. Stark, I take it I have to fire _another_ encryption team?" Fury asked, narrowing his eyes at Tony.

"You bet," Tony replied dangerously.

"You want my brother dead. Why?" Thor snarled.

"This isn't Asgard," Fury answered, seeming unnervingly calm. "When the Chitauri sent Loki back to Earth, they sent us one big problem. We aren't geared towards keeping constant control over a demi-god turned war criminal." Natasha was about to speak, but Fury continued: "However, we realise we have made a mistake. We never expected Loki's benevolent behaviour... Or his change of heart." He looked pointedly at Natasha. So, she and Loki were, in fact, the planet's worst kept secret. "And Earth can't afford to lose its mightiest heroes... So I have pleaded your case with the board, and the procedure can go ahead. But only if you let Agent Hill and her team be present, and you understand that if anything goes awry, they have the right to shoot to kill."

A murmur of shock mingled with relief swept through the boardroom. Though she was still reeling from Tony's revelations, Natasha let herself breathe. She gripped the table to keep herself upright as her head broke the surface of the water again.

"Understood," Tony said finally.

"Alright." Fury's expression softened slightly as he folded his fingers pensively in front of him. "But if you all pull a stunt like this again, I hope you know I'll be the one resigning."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey guys! My dad found me researching pacemakers the other day, and he either thinks I've secretly swapped majors or I'm moonlighting somewhere... Or that I'm crazy. We'll go with crazy. Anyway, I had to rewrite part of this because on reading it back I realised I'd unintentionally quoted Pocahontas. *Awkward* So here is the next chapter, hopefully free of Disney references! **

"But Director Fury's response was completely logical."

"If you keep talking like that, Spock, I'll sedate you!"

Natasha had been frustratedly pacing up and down at the foot of Loki's bed for the past half hour. The more the god tried to calm her down, the angrier she got.

"Dammit, Natasha, will you stop pacing! You're making me nauseous!"

Natasha froze and glared at Loki. His words stung... But maybe now wasn't the best time to be having their first domestic.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Loki said quietly, clearly thinking the same thing, his voice softer with remorse. "Will you please just sit down?"

With a sigh, Natasha pulled up a stool at his side, running a hand through her hair. "No, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I just don't understand how you can be so calm. Fury wanted you dead, Loki... Aren't you, I don't know, _angry_?"

Loki studied her for a long time before answering, slowly: "Yes... But not for my own sake. I'm only angry about what my death would do to Thor... and to you."

He smiled a little sadly at Natasha, obviously waiting to see if he would get away with this assertion of his importance to her... Natasha didn't say anything, because he was right.

"But please, Natasha," he continued. "Put things into perspective. Fury's plans don't matter anymore; you and Dr. Banner have proved him wrong thus far, and he's allowing my operation to go ahead." Loki reached out and took Natasha's hand, their fingers interlocked on the bed. "It's really not worth getting worked up over."

Natasha knew Loki was right yet again, and his touch seemed to be drawing the anger out of her like venom from a wound. She was about to reply when she was interrupted by a commotion out in the laboratory corridor. Tony appeared, carrying three large cardboard boxes precariously stacked one on top of the other, followed by Bruce wheeling a crate containing more boxes, and they were arguing about something.

"But I don't see the problem!" Tony said, entering the lab and setting the boxes down by a bench.

"Well you wouldn't!" Bruce retorted, parking the crate next to Tony.

"What are you two bickering about?" Natasha asked slyly; it seemed she and Loki weren't the only ones dealing with discord.

"Tony wants us to play 'Bohemian Rhapsody' on loop during the surgery tomorrow, which is just ridiculous," Bruce explained wearily.

"But all the cool surgeons have soundtracks to their procedures!" Tony shot back.

"Fine! Why don't we just play 'Staying Alive' instead? It'd be more appropriate!" Bruce replied.

"Now that _is_ ridiculous!" Tony snapped.

Natasha glanced sideways at Loki; he was listening to the conversation with a look somewhere between curiosity and confusion. She knew Tony and Bruce could go on like this all night, so she decided to change the subject: "I can't believe Mount Sinai just let you borrow all this stuff!"

Tony grinned knowingly at Bruce. "Yeah, Bruce, I wonder why that is?"

Natasha was shocked when she realised Bruce had actually gone a little red. "Well Laura, I mean Dr. Gill is, er, an old flame of mine... So she's letting us use her equipment," he admitted.

"And if the surgery is a success she's letting Bruce take her out to dinner!" Tony added gleefully.

"I'll try not to die on you then, Doctor," Loki said with a wry smile, and Tony looked like he was about to burst with delight at the situation.

"It's not a date!" Bruce said sharply. "We'll just be meeting up to discuss the procedure... Now let's see what's in these boxes."

He tore open one of Tony's cardboard boxes like a lion ripping flesh off a zebra carcass. Tony, Natasha and Loki exchanged fearful looks; the joke had clearly run its course.

"See this is why I need an awesome soundtrack," Tony whined, pulling a pair of green surgical scrubs from the box. "Because I'm going to look like a twat!"

Natasha laughed. "Yeah, I can't believe you two are getting me into scrubs!" No one joined in her laughter. Bruce and Tony looked worriedly from Natasha to each other. "What?" she asked hotly.

"We don't think it's a good idea for you to be assisting tomorrow," Bruce said carefully. "We were going to discuss it with you in, er, private. But you're..." He glanced at Loki.

"... A little too _involved_," Tony finished. "It wouldn't be a smart move. Pepper will be assisting."

Natasha leapt off her stool. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she growled, her heart throwing itself against her ribcage.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," Bruce said sombrely. "I just don't think it would be very professional if..."

Natasha lost it at the word 'professional'. She stormed out of the lab without a backward glance, despite the cries of "Natasha!" from all three men – though the note of pain she discerned in Loki's voice slowed her pace a little. _Professional_? So she was just another idiot who fell for a patient and this was her punishment. As she marched towards the elevator she realised her reaction had been mostly due to fear; a fear of losing control, of being forced into a spectator seat, watching Loki's life hang in the balance without being able to do a thing about it.

She repeatedly stabbed at the elevator button, and when the doors slid open she found Pepper staring at her. Natasha froze; she was now trapped between Pepper and the lab, trying to decide which was the lesser of two evils. Making her decision, Natasha stepped into the elevator.

"Where you heading?" Pepper asked cautiously, looking into the corridor as the doors closed, trying to determine the problem.

"I... I don't know," Natasha admitted, pinching the top of her nose with an angry sigh.

"They told you about my assisting?" Pepper ventured warily.

"Yes," Natasha replied. Looking over at her, she saw that Pepper looked terrified at the prospect of being in a confined space with a master assassin whom she had just royally pissed off... And her fear made Natasha ease off. She knew this wasn't Pepper's fault, and she said so.

"You look like you could use a stiff drink," Pepper commented. "You wanna join me upstairs?" 'Upstairs' was everyone's name for Tony and Pepper's penthouse suite.

Rapidly travelling past the point of caring, Natasha nodded, and the two women fell silent as the elevator soared upwards towards its final destination.

-o0o-

"Are you sure Tony won't mind us drinking his Scotch?" Natasha asked when Pepper handed her a glass of what she suspected was very expensive, dark gold whiskey.

"Well, he still owes me for that 'twelve percent' comment he made a few months ago, so I say this is another method of payback," Pepper replied, coming to join Natasha at the bar.

Natasha took a gulp of whiskey; it was like swallowing fire and she tried desperately not to cough. Pepper sipped hers, waiting for Natasha to begin. "I just can't catch a break!" Natasha said finally, after another gulp from her glass.

"I know the feeling," Pepper said slowly. "But I think Bruce and Tony's discovery this week is a pretty big break." She looked at Natasha with a rueful smile, like a big sister scolding a younger sibling for blowing things out of proportion.

"OK, yes, I know," Natasha sighed. "God, I'm like a fourteen-year-old girl with these mood swings. I should be sitting in the corner eating Nutella out of the jar with a spoon!"

Pepper laughed. "Again, I know the feeling... And, well, I understand your situation more than you might think." She lowered her voice. "Tony's arc reactor scares the hell out of me... If something happened to him, I don't know what I'd do. I know what it's like to care about someone but feel you can't protect them, or save them." She drained her glass. "When Tony and I first started dating I took some cardiac physiology classes on the sly, just to feel a little less helpless, in case something happened. Tony eventually found out about the classes, and I'm sure that's why he put me forward to assist."

Natasha's stomach jolted; they had returned to Loki, and she felt the sickly sloshing of the whiskey inside her. She hadn't established a poker face in time and Pepper caught her expression.

"You know all I'll really be doing is handing things to Tony and Bruce and monitoring Loki's IVs, but I promise you I'll take good care of him, Natasha, in any way I can."

"Thank you," Natasha whispered, the warmth of the whiskey in her stomach transmuting into genuine warmth for Pepper.

"So, another round?" Pepper asked, sensing Natasha didn't want to linger over the moment.

Natasha grinned. "You read my mind."

-o0o-

Natasha could tell by the way the agents were fidgeting with the safeties on their guns that they had all drawn the short straw, and none of them wanted to be there. Agent Hill had brought along another four agents and Fury's right-hand woman was sitting across from her now, gathered as they were in Bruce's lounge. Trying to avoid Agent Hill's gaze, Natasha's thoughts flitted to Clint... She quickly pushed such thoughts away. Clint had dropped off S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar a few days ago and no one knew where he was, but she knew that shouldn't be the focus of her attention.

The lounge doors slid open and Thor appeared, hastily wiping his eyes. He looked to Natasha and nodded; she was up. Passing the god on her way to the doors, she gently squeezed his arm.

"We'll join you in five minutes, Natasha," Bruce said quietly, as she headed into the lab.

The lab had been transformed that afternoon, quite spectacularly, into a make-shift operating theatre. Natasha squinted slightly against the harsher, whiter light. Loki's hospital bed had been lowered and was now completely horizontal. The god lay there waiting for her, his head resting on one thin pillow. As part of a compromise for not assisting, Bruce and Tony were letting Natasha administer Loki's anaesthetic, so the two would get his last few moments together before he went under. She found the syringe waiting for her in a metal tray at Loki's bedside, and it only made her feel sick.

"How are you feeling?" Loki murmured, as she took a seat next to him.

"I've been better," Natasha replied, managing a smile. "How about you?"

Loki didn't answer and there was a nervousness dancing in his green eyes. Natasha reached up and began to stroke his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead. "Hey, you've got nothing to worry about. It'll be over in a heartbeat."

"Just... Just promise me you'll be the first thing I see when I wake up," Loki whispered.

"I promise," Natasha said, softly but firmly. Her eyes flickered to the syringe. "Are you ready?"

Loki nodded. He chose to look away when she took his hand and gently turned his arm towards her. With two fingers she tapped for a vein, and found one almost immediately. "OK, you'll just feel a little scratch." Swiftly and smoothly, she plunged the needle into Loki's arm, delivering the dose of Propofol. Then, withdrawing the needle and disposing of the syringe, she pressed a cotton pad against the spot where the needle had broken the skin.

"If I _don't_ wake up," Loki said quietly. "You will take care of Thor for me, won't you?"

"Shhh..." Natasha's hand returned to Loki's hair. "Don't talk like that."

"But I mean it," Loki said, the words coming out heavy and laboured. "And if I don't make it... Natasha... please... don't throw your life away..." The god's eyelids were fluttering as he tried vainly to fight against the pull of the drug. "Life's... too precious for one... as beautiful and brilliant... as you to... give up..."

With tears prickling her eyes and words failing her, Natasha leaned down and kissed Loki's lips, urgently and passionately. She felt Loki trying desperately to mould his lips against hers, but he was only seconds away from losing consciousness.

As she pulled away, Loki fixed her with his green, watery eyes. "Natasha..." Each syllable was slurred. "I... I..." But then his eyes rolled back into his head and his lids closed, his lips still slightly agape with his last words to her, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air between them. A cry got caught in Natasha's throat and she kissed Loki's lips again, then his nose, then his forehead.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there, and she never heard the lounge doors open, but suddenly strong hands were helping her rise from her stool and guiding her towards the lab doors. She peered up to see it was Thor who was half-carrying her away. A row of chairs had been placed in the laboratory corridor. Natasha sat down next to Thor, and they were joined by Steve and an agent. Bruce and Tony were finishing scrubbing up at a sink at the back of the lab. Pepper, already prepared, was sitting at the top of Loki's bed, fixing an oxygen mask to his face. Natasha noticed she seemed to be murmuring to Loki as she did – talking him through what she was doing. Natasha was glad Pepper was in there with him.

Agent Hill and the remaining three agents each retreated to a corner of the lab to observe the proceedings. Fully scrubbed up, Tony and Bruce moved to opposite sides of Loki's bed. Pepper handed Bruce a silver scalpel that flashed white under the surgical light, and then, without a word, Bruce made the first incision in Loki's left shoulder, just below his collar bone.

It was like watching a black and white silent film. With a wall of glass between them, Natasha saw the inhabitants of the lab as flat and removed as they continued to work noiselessly in their colourless world. None of it seemed real and Natasha was only aware of a slight humming in her ears as she retreated further inside herself, like watching something on the horizon from the mouth of a cave.

The minutes trickled by and Natasha stayed perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. They were approaching the end of the procedure now. Thor was becoming restless at her side. The pacemaker generator – no bigger than a fifty-cent piece – had been successfully slotted through the shoulder incision into the constructed pocket of flesh in Loki's chest. The pacemaker's two leads had been transvenously fed into the atrium and ventricle of his heart. Natasha knew all this, but she couldn't remember it happening; the past couple of hours had dissolved into a grainy, grey blur.

Tony gave Bruce a thumbs up as the pacemaker generator was fully activated, and there seemed to be a collective sigh of relief from the room... But then a monitor started screeching. Loki's heart had stopped.

"NO!" Natasha leapt up and slammed her hand against the glass. The shrill, deadly note brought the world of sound and colour crashing back down on her and now everything was all too real. "LOKI!" She darted towards the lab doors, but strong arms wrapped around her waist and wrestled her back.

"No, Natasha!" came Thor's gruff voice, which broke on the third syllable of her name as he fought against his own agony.

But Natasha continued to struggle in Thor's powerful grip, hands reaching towards the glass as she stared helplessly through it to the world beyond.

"Wait!" Tony commanded, when Bruce moved to begin CPR.

"What?" Bruce barked.

"I said wait for it!" Tony replied, looking desperately from Loki to the monitor where a flat green line raced across the screen.

Then something terrifying happened. Natasha blinked repeatedly, but there was no doubt about it... Loki's skin was turning blue.

"Jesus Christ!" Bruce took a step back in horror.

In an instant all the agents had their guns pointed as Loki. Intricate patterns of raised skin were spreading from the god's shoulders, to his neck, covering his face.

"His Jotun form," Natasha heard Thor gasp, and the shock made him loosen his grip on her.

The monitor kept screaming and Natasha's heart was beating so fast it hurt. She could hardly see what was happening through the tears that clouded her vision.

"Tony! We have to do something!" Bruce shouted.

"I said WAIT!" Tony yelled back.

And suddenly the screaming stopped. Loki's heart miraculously started beating again, and his skin's blue colouring faded away as quickly as it had come, returning him to his usual pale, fleshy complexion.

"There!" Tony cried in triumph.

"We've got a rhythm," Pepper sighed.

With a cry, Natasha twisted around in Thor's arms and buried her face in his chest. Her heart felt like it was about to burst right out of her chest and she couldn't catch her breath.

"Hey, it's alright," Thor whispered, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her, resting his chin on her hair. "We got him back. He's still with us."

Natasha kept her eyes tightly shut, slowly trying to untense her muscles. Over Thor's soothing she heard Bruce and Tony snapping at each other.

"Fucking hell, Tony!"

"What?"

"You knew his heart would stop and restart like that?"

"I figured it was a possibility."

"You could have shared that with us! Christ!"

"Hey, no harm done. The pacemaker's working fine now. The surgery was a success!"

"That... That's not the point!"

"OK, OK. You can put me in detention later. But right now we need to close him up."

"Are we going to ignore the fact that he just turned blue?" That was Agent Hill's voice.

"Well, I'm no specialist in Loki's, er, genetics... But the amount of rewiring we've done, it was always a possibility. Did I forget to mention that?"

"Forget to mention it? Tony, I almost turned _green_!"

Opening her eyes and turning slowly back towards the lab, Natasha drowned out Bruce and Tony's arguing with static and looked to Pepper. Pepper caught her eye and silently mouthed "We're OK". She then began murmuring something to the sleeping Loki.

Natasha focused her gaze on Loki's face. Filtering out the background noise, her ears sought out the soft, steady beeping of his heart monitor, so there was only Loki and his beating heart left in the world. Natasha slowly exhaled; this was more than enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey guys! A massive thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic thus far, I seriously do treasure every single review/fav/follow! Now, we've got a calmer couple of chapters coming up, but sit tight kiddies, because it ain't over yet...**

"Did you see how crazy Romanoff went when he flat-lined?"

"Yeah, she was clawing at the glass!"

"Guess the rumours about her ditching Barton were true..."

Natasha flicked her hairdryer onto a higher setting, hoping to drown out the voices in her head with the burning wind roaring in her ears. After Loki's procedure, she had gone to Bruce's bathroom to freshen up. The agents gathered in the kitchenette by the bathroom door hadn't realised she could hear every word of their conversation... Or, at least, she hoped they hadn't. She knew, even before she heard them, that she had made a mistake letting her guard down in front of everyone. She thought she was stronger than that, but when Loki's heart had stopped beating she'd lost it completely. The thought of losing him overrode everything she knew and destroyed everything she thought she was.

Her feelings for Loki weakened, indeed almost dissolved, the shield she had spent years creating and hardening like a second skin, like armour. The thought of Loki in pain, in danger, made this shield penetrable and showed her she was not infallible – far from it. And now she felt more vulnerable and exposed than she ever had done with Clint. She would have to be careful she didn't start resenting Loki for it.

Her anguish over the agents' words hadn't gone unnoticed by Thor (another failing of her shield...), but he had empathised: "My enduring affection for Loki has caused many to question my intelligence and my morals; I have had the slights too. If you continue to care for my brother, Natasha, you must also face them." The god had then added with a twinkle in his blue eyes: "But I suggest you don't tell Loki about this. If he finds out these agents upset you, they won't last two minutes once he has regained his strength."

Natasha flinched from a stinging at the top of her ear; she realised she had probably been drying her hair for ten minutes longer than was necessary as she battled against the host of unsettling thoughts. Rising from her bed, she unwound the towel from her torso and slung it over the radiator. She dressed quickly and grabbed the pager from her bedside table; there had been no messages from Bruce whilst she'd been in the shower, so Loki must still be sleeping. Bruce had warned her that even after the anaesthetic had worn off, Loki might sleep for several hours whilst his body adjusted to the pacemaker, but she couldn't deny how anxious she was to have the god awake and alert again so he could tell her himself that he was OK.

It was approaching midnight when Natasha stepped into the eighth floor corridor. The lab was empty apart from Loki... and an unexpected guest. Her usual stool at Loki's bedside had been replaced with an enormous leather armchair; it was a rather garish reddy-brown, with the material so worn on parts of the arms that it had the texture of snakeskin. Entering the lab, Natasha moved in for a closer look. Standing opposite the armchair, she cocked her head, one hand on her hip, confronting this new rival for her place at Loki's side. The armchair seemed to stare back at her, as adamant and obnoxious as... Ah. She knew whose furniture this was.

"You like it then?"

Natasha turned to see Bruce appear from the lounge.

"Well it, er, certainly adds some colour to the place."

"It's Tony's 'sorry for being an incompetent surgeon' present," Bruce explained before she could ask.

"He wasn't so incompetent," Natasha said with a laugh. "Not very forthcoming with vital information, but not incompetent... Where did he get it?" She ran a tentative finger along the chair's arm, tracing a line of lighter-coloured leather cut into the fabric like a scar.

"From his study. I think it was Howard Stark's at some point," Bruce answered. "We figured you might be in here for some time, and those stools are hardly the height of comfort."

"Thank you," Natasha murmured. Then, feeling Bruce's eyes on her, and that it would be rude to just stand there, she turned and lowered herself into the armchair. The soft leather sank beneath her weight, moulding itself to her shape, letting out something close to a groan as it did so. She couldn't deny it _was_ far more comfortable than the lab's metal stools. She leaned against its high back, the leather melting around her shoulders, and drummed her fingers on the arms; she was starting to feel quite at home in it.

"Glad you like it," Bruce said, registering her contentment. "I suppose I better turn in for the night. Are you sure you're OK here?"

Natasha nodded. "The three of us will be fine," she said with a grin.

"Well, page me if you need anything," Bruce said, tapping the pager clipped to his belt, and then he disappeared through the lounge doors.

Deciding she might as well get comfortable, Natasha kicked off her boots and folded her legs up under her on the chair. Turning to Loki, she reached out and brushed a stray strand of black hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. Taking his hand, she lifted it to her lips and kissed its back, before setting it down on the bed, keeping their fingers entwined.

The armchair was strangely warm, and it being a Stark armchair, Natasha wouldn't have been surprised if it was engineered to absorb and emit body heat at an elevated rate. She lay her face against its back and it was like cosying up to a hot water bottle. The warmth against her cheek and the heat of Loki's hand, coupled with his steady breathing and the beeping of his heart monitor, lulled her into a state of happy exhaustion. Regressing into this childlike tiredness, Natasha felt her anger and frustration seep away into the chair's leather, and within minutes she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

-o0o-

Natasha wasn't sure what had woken her, and for a moment she thought she was back in her own bed. She turned to her left and looked, bleary-eyed, for her bedside digital clock, but found a lab bench and a white wall. The brightness hurt her eyes, but also helped her shrug off the throws of sleep. Looking down, she saw that she had been covered in Pepper's knitted quilt. She slid one arm out from under it, then realised the other was attached to someone else. Loki was still asleep at her side, her hand clasped in his, now slightly clammy with heat.

A soft cough alerted her to Bruce's presence; the doctor was standing at the foot of Loki's bed with an amused smile. "You took a while to come round there. Sleep well?"

"... Yes, actually," Natasha replied, stunned to find she really had slept well. "What time is it?"

"Just past eight."

"I slept the whole night?" she asked, unable to believe her luck; even before Loki's arrival she had rarely slept for longer than four or five hours at a time.

"Seems so," Bruce answered. "I came in to check on you about four, and you were dead to the world."

"And Loki? He still hasn't woken up yet?" Natasha furrowed her brow in concern.

"He's allowed to take his time... But I want you to come and look at this." Bruce moved to Loki's right side.

Natasha pulled off the quilt and folded it over the chair's arm. She padded around the bed, barefoot, to join Bruce. The doctor carefully lifted the cotton dressings covering Loki's burns and Natasha gasped. The skin beneath, once charred and black, was now a shiny red. Though still flaking with a few raised, uneven patches, the improvement was unbelievable. Bruce lowered the dressings again with a grin.

"The pacemaker... It's working," Natasha breathed.

"Yes. At a much faster rate than we ever thought possible too," Bruce said, sounding almost giddy.

Unable to stop herself, Natasha reached out and gently pulled down Loki's blankets; the bruising over his ribcage had faded to a pale blue-grey and had lost its ominous yellow lining. Tucking the blankets back around Loki, Natasha had to put a hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing. "You did it, Bruce. You actually did it!"

Bruce was about to make a bashful reply when Loki let out a soft groan. Natasha turned to see the god stirring, his eyes fluttering open. Bruce suddenly vanished from her side and she heard the lounge doors hiss; he had either become afraid of his own bedside manner, or he was the most tactful man she had ever met. Natasha moved back around the bed and perched on the edge of the armchair, taking Loki's hand in her own and stroking his hair with the other.

Loki squinted against the harsh, white light of the lab and it took a while for his eyes to slide into focus, but when they did he immediately looked to his left... and smiled. "Natasha," he whispered.

"Hey," Natasha said, squeezing his hand.

"Well, if this is Helheim, I have no quarrels so far." He squeezed back.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but you're still on Earth, alive and well."

"Well? So the operation was a success?" Loki asked carefully.

Natasha thought about mentioning the surgery's one hiccup, but decided against it; that could wait. "Yes," was all she said, hoping her smile would suffice.

"I just have one more question."

"Oh?"

"What, in the name of all the nine realms, are you sitting on?"

-o0o-

"So... how do I look?"

Bruce shifted uncomfortably at the foot of Loki's bed, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, probably to stop himself fidgeting. He was being scrutinised by Loki and Natasha, who having given up pretences, was sitting cross-legged next to Loki on his bed. She claimed she needed a break from the recently acquired leather armchair which was beginning to make her feel like a Bond villain.

"I'm not sure about the tie," Loki commented quietly.

"Yeah, I'd lose the tie," Natasha agreed. "It's a date, not a job interview!"

"It's not a date," Bruce replied sharply. "But OK, no tie."

He hastily removed his tie and dropped it, absent-mindedly, at the bottom of Loki's bed. He then unbuttoned the top of his shirt and rearranged his collar. Natasha suspected the whole outfit – the new, finely tailored suit and crisp shirt – had been bought especially for the occasion, and she had never seen Bruce looking more nervous.

"Perfect," Natasha said warmly.

"She's a lucky woman," Loki concurred.

"Yes..." Bruce said slowly, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. He looked at his watch. "Right, well, I need to get going... You two behave yourselves, and don't wait up!" And he was out the lab doors before either Natasha or Loki could say another word.

Natasha watched him hurry down the lab corridor, hiding a smile; she knew "don't wait up" was a plea and/or silent acknowledgement of the fact that if he wanted to invite Dr. Gill back for coffee he'd have to sneak past both her and Loki. Once she heard the elevator's chime, she carefully swivelled herself round, keeping her legs crossed, so that she was facing Loki. It had been four days since his operation and he'd spent most of the time sleeping. This was the latest he'd been awake in the evening, and they'd hardly had chance to speak during his lucid periods... Something which clearly hadn't gone unnoticed by Loki; he was studying her now with a serious expression which made her stomach give a sickening jolt.

"I want to talk to you about something," he murmured.

"OK," Natasha replied, trying to keep her voice even.

"Before my operation, when you were sedating me, just before I lost consciousness... I think I might have said something to you?"

"You told me to look after Thor and not to give up if you didn't make it."

"And after that?"

Natasha felt her heart thudding against her ribs... She knew she didn't want to have this conversation, and that it could lead nowhere good. "You said my name," she whispered, swallowing to try and ease the sickly feelings clouding her stomach.

"And what did I say to you after that?" Loki pressed, his green eyes desperately searching her face.

"You didn't," Natasha answered. "You lost consciousness."

Loki was silent for a long time, then said slowly: "But you know what I wanted to say."

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Yes. She knew what he wanted to say. But she couldn't say it back. She hated _that_ word, and especially its use in a combination of three words. It complicated everything, and ruined most things. She had only ever said it once, a year ago, to Clint, and now she regretted that more than anything. The jeers of the agents returned to her and so did the feeling of weakness. That word made her weak and she hated it now more than ever.

But she didn't want to leave Loki hanging. She frantically searched for other words to comfort him, to tell him what he meant to her... to let him know every time she thought she was going to lose him she died inside. Believing the search was futile, she leaned forward and tried to kiss him, but he put a finger over her lips, gently pushing her away.

"You do realise every time I bring emotion into this you kiss me to silence me," Loki said, with a knowing smile. "And I'll admit it usually works... But not this time."

His finger slid from her lips and grasped her hand. She prayed he wouldn't be able to feel it shaking. He had cornered her now and her last ditch attempt at changing the subject had failed, so she simply stared at him, speechless.

"You're afraid that loving something makes you weak," Loki said softly, and Natasha cursed his unnerving knack for reading her mind. "Now, I haven't learnt a vast amount of things from my brother, but one thing Thor has shown me is that love actually makes you stronger. It can bring you joy, give you hope... It gives you something to fight for, and a reason to stay alive."

Natasha was silently picking holes in his logic, though she couldn't deny that there was _some_ truth in it...

"Please, Natasha, say something," Loki pleaded, and there was fear lurking behind his green eyes that were fixed on her.

"Words aren't exactly my forte," Natasha murmured.

"We both know that's not true."

"Sure, I can lie. Deceptive words are my forte... But honest ones, not so much," Natasha admitted.

Loki seemed to accept her point, but he stayed quiet, waiting.

And then the words came to her. They weren't the ones Loki wanted to hear, but they were the closest she could get. "I would die for you," she said, calmly and firmly. Five words and she meant every one.

"I would die for you too," Loki said, in the same firm tone. Then he lifted a finger and, hooking it under her chin, pulled her towards him into a kiss.

-o0o-

When Tony wheeled his portable x-ray generator into the lab, the look on Loki's face told Natasha he was having a similar reaction to hers the first time she'd seen it. In the week since his operation, Loki's burns had been reduced to sporadic patches of red with a few raised bumps of white skin and his ribs had healed completely. Even the gash over his eyebrow had faded to a faint red line which wasn't visible at a distance. Now Bruce was anxious to see how Loki's left hand had fared.

Tony lined the generator up with Loki's bed, and Natasha carefully unwrapped his bandages, one finger at a time, like a tentative striptease. The fingers beneath the bandages, though still a little discoloured in some places, were straight and unswollen. Natasha gently placed Loki's hand on the glass square of the generator as a semi-transparent blue screen appeared, hovering over the bed.

"OK, three second warning this time," Tony announced. "Three... Two... One..."

Natasha shielded her eyes against the flash of blinding white light with one hand and clapped the other over Loki's eyes just in time. As the light faded, Natasha blinked until her vision had returned to normal, then looked to the screen... and laughed.

"Well, would you look at that!" Bruce gasped.

The x-ray of Loki's hand showed each of his fingers in bright white, the bones branching out unbroken. Every single break was completely healed. Tony closed down the generator and Natasha felt quite sad when the x-ray disappeared; part of her wanted to frame it and hang it in her room as the second most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"OK, Loki, can you make a fist?" Bruce asked, using his own hand to demonstrate.

Loki mimicked Bruce's movements, folding his fingers into a clenched fist.

"And flex them." Bruce fanned out his fingers, and Loki did the same.

"And count to five." Bruce made a fist again and then spread out his fingers, one by one, from thumb to pinkie. Loki mirrored this perfectly. "Excellent! I can't believe it!" Bruce sighed happily.

"You did good, Bruce," Natasha said. "You did good." She pretended not to notice that Loki had taken her hand in his newly-healed one, but the grin on her face said it all.

-o0o-

Loki tensed as soon as Natasha, Tony, and Thor filed into the lab. He seemed to sense this was some kind of intervention, though he wasn't sure why yet. Standing at the foot of his bed, Natasha produced the pair of scissors she had been hiding behind her back, and made a couple of snips in the air with them for good measure.

"Time's up, Sparky," Tony said, with a grin. "We've got to give you a haircut before you're well enough to run away."

Loki stared back at him, eyes wide. "I... I don't think that's necessary."

"Come on, I'm just trimming it, not giving you a buzz cut," Natasha said, smirking.

"I take it I don't have any choice in the matter?"

"No," Natasha, Tony, and Thor replied in unison.

Suspecting they would have Thor pin him down if he didn't cooperate, Loki leaned forward and let Natasha place a towel around his shoulders. She worked swiftly and affectively, cutting away all the curled spikes of black hair until the towel was coated in them. Ever the perfectionist, Natasha took her time neatening up all the ends. When she was finally satisfied, she let Thor hand Loki Bruce's shaving mirror. Loki stared at his reflection in shock; the transformation was astounding. Natasha went to join Thor and Tony to admire her work.

Loki caught Thor's eye and the older Asgardian beamed. "You look just like your old self again, brother," he said quietly.

-o0o-

"Tony, put the camcorder away!"

"What? This is a special moment; Loki's first steps. I thought you'd want it documented?"

"You just want him to face-plant so you can put it on Youtube!"

While the rest of the lab's inhabitants argued around him, Loki fiercely gripped the side of the bed to keep himself upright. He had hoped his first time out of bed would be a private affair, shared only with Natasha and maybe Dr. Banner, but somehow everyone had got wind of it and now he felt like a circus freak show act. Perhaps watching him humiliate himself was their idea of an acceptable revenge.

"OK! OK! No recording," Tony sighed, after being on the receiving end of one of Natasha's death glares.

He reluctantly lowered the camcorder and set it down on the bench at his side. Natasha had a sneaking suspicion it might still be recording, but she didn't have the energy to keep arguing. She went to Loki's side and squeezed his arm; she'd forgotten how tall he actually was and she was still getting used to craning her neck to meet his gaze. "You don't have to do this now, you know," she whispered. "If you want to get back into bed, a couple of warning shots will send them home." She grinned.

"No... It's now or never," Loki said quietly, though he tightened his grip on the bed.

"OK," Natasha replied gently. "Take your time."

She took a few steps back and a hush fell over the lab, with all eyes fixed on Loki. The god looked at his feet as he slowly let go of the bed... but then grabbed hold of it again almost immediately.

"I... I can't," he choked. "I'll fall."

"Then we'll catch you, brother," Thor said softly, coming to Loki's right side.

Natasha came to his left. "Thor and I won't let you fall... Now try not to look at your feet. Look straight ahead, just take it slow."

Loki looked from Natasha to Thor, then nodded. His focus moved to the opposite wall as he relaxed his grip on the bed. His hands slipped from the sheets and hovered at his side, helping him steady himself. He stayed like this for a few long moments, getting used to being upright again. Then he slowly edged out his right foot. When this didn't unbalance him, he edged out his left. He began a slow shuffle across the floor, all the while keeping his eyes focused straight ahead, though he was ever aware of Natasha and Thor shadowing him.

"Doing really well, Loki," Natasha said, and her words of encouragement were echoed by everyone in the room.

Feeling a little bolder, Loki lifted his right foot from the floor and took a proper step, then did the same with his left. He was picking up speed now, and this urged him on. Natasha's eyes flitted from Loki's face to his feet as she moved in time with him across the lab, a giddy feeling spreading from her stomach. But then her eyes flicked to his feet just in time to see him take an awkward step. She and Thor reacted simultaneously as Loki slipped and grabbed hold of him, keeping him upright. Loki peered at her, looking defeated and angry with himself, a spot of colour appearing in his cheeks.

"Hey!" Natasha said, smiling. "Look how far you've come – you're almost at the lounge doors... I'm so proud of you!" She'd meant the comment to be encouraging, not patronising, and for a second she thought Loki had taken it the wrong way, but then he managed a smile. Spurred on by his smile, she added ruefully: "Now ten bucks says you can walk all the way back. And no falling on purpose!"


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hey everyone! Another longer chapter for you – this one was a lot of fun to write; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. An ENORMOUS thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed – you guys are just ridiculously awesome!**

"I want to try something."

Natasha and Bruce exchanged curious glances at Loki's announcement. "OK..." Natasha said carefully.

Loki raised his right hand, clicked his fingers with a flick of his wrist... and Natasha's pager leapt from her belt onto the bed. Natasha almost sprained her neck with the force of her double-take, but she hadn't imagined it; Loki had transformed her pager into an emerald green frog that was now hopping about over his blankets. She noted that the frog had retained the pager's squarish shape, its black freckles the same colour as the pager's plastic... and instead of croaking, the frog started imitating the pager's beep, though with more of a musicality so that it was almost a whistle.

"I don't know which one is more annoying," Natasha said with a laugh, as the frog continued to whistle the shrill note.

She carefully placed her hand out, flat on the bed, in front of the beeping amphibian and it hopped onto her palm; its skin felt cold against her own, but not slimy, more cool like a precious metal. Lifting it up to get a closer look, she gazed into its huge, shining eyes and her heart jolted; she recognised the pale blue-green irises and hazel halo around the pupil... The frog had her eyes. She looked up to see Loki watching her with a knowing smile.

"He's very cute," she said, grinning as she tickled the frog's chin with the tip of her finger. The frog whistled appreciatively.

"I thought I was the only cute, green thing around here," Bruce said wryly. "It's very impressive... But I want you to be careful. No teleporting or replicating yourself until I'm sure your body can handle it, OK? I don't want you splicing yourself in half!"

Loki was about to reply when he was interrupted by: _"I threw a wish in the well. Don't ask me, I'll never tell..."_

"Oh crap! That's me..." Bruce quickly tapped his pockets for his phone.

"_That's_ your ringtone?" Natasha asked, her raised eyebrow in danger of disappearing into her hair.

"Tony changed it as a prank. I keep forgetting to change it back!" Bruce said defensively, as he produced his cell from his pants pocket. "It's Laura! I better take this..."

With colour flooding his cheeks, Bruce rushed off into the lounge. Natasha rolled her eyes; Bruce always regressed a good twenty years whenever Dr. Gill was involved.

"I suppose I better give you your pager back." Loki clicked his fingers again and the frog back-flipped off Natasha's hand. As it hit the bed, its legs shot back into its body and the black freckles expanded, covering the green until a perfectly harmless-looking pager sat in its place.

Natasha hesitantly picked it up and examined it; there was nothing froggish about it, and nothing to indicate it had just been hopping about the bed. "When did you realise you'd got your powers back?" she asked, clipping the pager to her belt.

"A couple of days ago," Loki replied. "I could feel it seeping back into me, then it began to surge – like a rush of blood to the head... I want to try something else." He suddenly threw off his blankets and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Natasha moved around the bed, a note of panic in her voice, as Loki went to a corner of the lab; she was still getting used to him being able to walk again. "Loki...?" she pressed, when he didn't answer.

Loki simply smiled at her... and then vanished, right before her eyes, the outline of his body hanging in the air like smoke.

"Loki!" She spun around and froze; he was standing just by the lab doors, wearing the same smile as his other self... But then his face fell. He collapsed onto his knees and keeled over, lying still on the floor. "Fuck!" Natasha rushed to his side. Dropping to the floor, she pulled his head into her lap. "Loki? Can you hear me? ... Fuck... BRUCE!" She quickly placed two fingers below Loki's jaw; there was a strong pulse and the jerky movements of his chest told her he was still breathing, though it was with some difficulty.

Bruce appeared from the lounge just as Loki let out a low moan. "What happened?" he asked urgently, grabbing an oxygen mask from the bench behind him.

"He, er, did exactly what you told him not to do and teleported from one end of the lab to the other," Natasha answered, as Bruce came to kneel at her side.

"So he's still as rebellious as ever then?" Bruce sighed, attaching the oxygen mask to Loki's face. "We have got all of him, haven't we? Ten fingers and toes?"

"I think so," Natasha replied, doing a sweeping count of Loki's limbs and digits.

Loki started spluttering and his eyes snapped open. He looked wildly up at Natasha, his green eyes fearful.

"Deep breaths, Loki," Bruce said calmly, his fingers at Loki's wrist, monitoring his pulse.

"It's alright," Natasha said, soothingly stroking Loki's hair until his breathing became controlled and steady.

He reached up with his free hand and pulled the oxygen mask down. "I... I did it!" he gasped, with a sense of childish triumph that made Natasha laugh.

"Yes," she sighed. "You gave me a freaking heart attack, but you did it!"

-o0o-

Natasha's eyes flew open at the sound of the floor creaking right by her head. She stared, blindly, into the pitch black expanse of the lounge. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, she could just make out the silhouette of a man standing a few feet from the sofa. "Bruce?" she murmured.

"No," came a soft, velvety answer, scarily close to her ear.

"Loki?" she breathed, sitting up. "What are you doing out of bed?"

She felt the sofa sag at one side as he sat down next to her. "I couldn't sleep."

As her vision improved, Loki materialised before her... and she realised he was missing his pyjama top. His pale skin looked almost white in contrast to the shadows of the room, and it had an odd, mesmerising luminescence about it. Perhaps it was a trick of the impaired lighting, but his chest and shoulders looked broader than she remembered, and her gaze lingered on the defined lines of his abdomen.

"You're missing a shirt," she said finally.

"It's a warm night," Loki shrugged.

Natasha shuffled closer to him and took his hand – it was sticky with sweat. Studying him again, she found that the reason his whole torso seemed to be shining was because it was covered in a slick dew. "What is it?" she asked softly, moving her hand up his arm to his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Loki was silent for a long time until he replied, almost reluctantly: "My nightmares are getting worse... More vivid... More _real_..." His skin seemed to tremble beneath Natasha's fingers as he said it.

"Shhh..." she soothed. She slid her hand back down his arm and kissed his shoulder. "It's alright." She left a lingering kiss on his collarbone. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you..." She snaked her arms around Loki's neck and her lips closed around his bottom lip, before slowly moving to find the rest of his mouth.

Loki kissed back fiercely, keeping one hand on her hip, he slid the other to the small of her back, pulling her against him. Natasha relished the burn of Loki's body pressed against her own, and she felt herself melting into him as her fingers toyed with the strands of inky black hair at the bottom of his neck. Loki's kisses grew more urgent as his lips moved from hers and trailed down her jaw to the nook of her neck. Natasha welcomed his presence there, arching away to allow him to nuzzle, keeping one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Loki began to suck on the soft flesh of her neck and she gasped when she felt his bite.

His hands moved to the bottom of her tank top and slowly began to lift... And a million warning bells went off in Natasha's mind; the ecstasy evaporated as reality kicked down the door onto the scene. She grabbed hold of Loki's wrists like she was restraining an assailant. "No!"

Loki froze.

"Shit, sorry..." She relaxed her grip. "I just don't think... Not like this... If Bruce hears..."

The half-finished sentences stumbled from her lips with little grace, but Loki was looking at her like she'd just thrown a bucket of ice cold water in his face, and she was desperately trying to remedy the situation. Her hands retreated guiltily to her sides. She knew she had just murdered what could have been one of the most perfect moments of her and Loki's relationship, and part of her was kicking herself, but the alternative brought to mind too many disastrous consequences...

Loki finally spoke: "No, I'm sorry. That was incredibly forward of me... I should go..."

He tried to rise from the sofa, but Natasha caught hold of his hand. "Stay," she whispered. "Please."

Loki slowly lowered himself back down onto the sofa. Natasha pulled back the duvet and he slid under it, beside her, though from his movements she could tell he was being very careful. As a compromise, she rolled onto her side, turning away from him to face the sofa's back, though she kept herself pressed against him.

Loki drew the duvet up over both of them, then slid his arm around her waist and kissed her neck. "Goodnight, Natasha," he murmured, and she could feel his breath, hot against her ear.

"Night, Loki."

It was a new height of intimacy for both of them. His heartbeat was thudding softly against her shoulder and his slow breaths went rushing over her neck. By some miracle, Natasha did sleep that night, but her dreams were full of everything that almost happened.

-o0o-

Natasha tried to focus on the coffee slowly dribbling into the pot, each drop making ripples on the dark brown surface of the pot's contents, but her eyes kept flitting to the sofa. Her duvet was neatly folded with pillows placed on top, and there was no indication that Loki had ever laid there with her. When she woke up a few hours ago, Loki was gone and she was alone on the sofa. She hadn't had chance to speak to Loki about it yet, and she was starting to wonder if she'd dreamt the whole thing... Images kept coming back to her, flashing vividly in her mind; Loki's pale skin, slick with sweat... His lips at her neck... His hands grabbing hold of her top...

"You OK, Natasha?"

Natasha's eyes snapped away from the sofa to find Bruce standing at the other side of the kitchenette's worktop. _Where the hell did you come from?_ was her initial reaction, but luckily she didn't vocalise it. Instead, she did something far more unnerving and grabbed the coffee pot from the machine whilst it was still dribbling and brandished it towards Bruce. "Coffee?" she asked, in such a manic fashion, she was sure it rivalled Freddy Krueger's people skills.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Bruce said carefully. "Don't think I need it today; I slept quite well last night... You?" His eyes flickered to the sofa.

Natasha set the coffee pot down on the worktop to stop herself from dropping it. No, she thought, no, no, this _cannot_ be happening... But curiosity got the better of her. She thought she'd been careful. "How did you know?"

"I usually find you sleeping diagonally across the sofa in the foetal position. This morning you were lying straight against the back," Bruce replied quietly. "That, and you have a..." He mumbled something inaudible. "On... on your neck."

Natasha clapped her hand over her neck. _Shit!_ She hadn't realised he'd left a mark... So she clearly hadn't dreamt any of it. "Nothing happened!" she said desperately; mortified didn't even begin to cover it.

"Well, that's none of my business," Bruce said slowly. "But I do keep forgetting that Loki is, er, upwardly mobile now and it's not fair to keep him cooped up in the lab all the time... So I've spoken to Tony and he's getting a room sorted out for him – probably the one next to Thor's on the fifth floor."

"Thanks, Bruce," Natasha said, attempting a smile. "I'm sorry..." She wasn't sure what exactly she was apologising for, but she supposed it could be any number of things. "And you're sure Loki's well enough to leave the lab?"

"I don't see any major problems," Bruce answered. "His recovery's been mostly without its hiccups. I will be sending him off with some medical supplies and the spare pager... But I take it you'll be around, in case anything does happen?"

Bruce's brown eyes twinkled behind his glasses. Damn, Natasha thought, I'm never going to live this down.

-o0o-

That evening, Loki left the lab for the first time since his arrival five weeks ago, and Natasha was surprised to find it started out as quite an emotionally-charged event. She and Loki were standing by the lab doors, Loki dressed in a simple green tunic and black pants he'd conjured for himself, and Bruce was checking the contents of the black messenger bag for the tenth time.

"OK," the doctor said, finally satisfied, handing the bag to Loki. "So there are Q-Tips and Savlon for you to clean your shoulder incision. Paracetamol and Ibuprofen for the pain... There _is _a twenty milligram dose of morphine, but hopefully that won't be necessary... Oh, and Ambien to help you sleep."

"Thank you, Doctor," Loki said kindly, shouldering the bag.

Bruce shifted on the spot. "I suppose I'm sorry to see you go," he admitted bashfully. "The lab's going to feel quite empty."

"I'll come back and visit, I promise," Loki grinned. "Thank you again, Doctor, for everything you've done for me." Loki held out his hand and Bruce shook it firmly.

"Just do me a favour."

"Yes?"

"Call me Bruce."

Loki laughed. "Of course, Bruce." He then looked to Natasha. "We best be off."

"OK, well you just be careful," Bruce said, looking pointedly at Natasha. "I don't want Loki back in here in an hour because you two have _overexerted_ yourselves."

To say Loki looked horrified was to put it mildly. Natasha glared at Bruce. "Thanks for that, Bruce... We're going now." And she herded Loki out the doors. Bruce watched her with the closest thing to a smirk she'd ever seen on his lips. It clearly said: you almost had sex on my couch, I've made things suitably awkward for you. Now we're even.

Loki was silent for most of the elevator journey to the fifth floor, and he followed Natasha down the corridor to his new room without a word. She feared Bruce's parting comment had killed the mood, buried it, and was now dancing merrily atop its grave. She let them into the room, they walked in and stopped; the bedspread and curtains were a rich, emerald green, as was the plush carpet, though Natasha could discern flecks of gold in the fibres that matched the gilt furnishings. One thing was certain; Tony Stark did not do interior decor by halves.

"This is wonderful," Loki said, peering around the room with a look of awe as he dropped the messenger bag to the floor.

Natasha turned to him and saw a trace of discomfort lingering in his expression, his posture a little awkward. Hoping to resurrect the mood, she slowly slid her arms around his neck. "Welcome home," she whispered. Rising onto her toes, she pulled him towards her into a kiss. It was a soft, tender kiss, and all too brief. Loki pulled away and Natasha was stunned to see a look of mischief in his eyes. Suddenly her legs were swept from under her as Loki hooked his arm under her knees, his other arm wrapped around her back, and effortlessly lifted her from the floor. "Bruce said you weren't supposed to be overexerting yourself," Natasha said, with a surprised laugh, slipping her arm around his shoulders.

"Well then it's a good job he's not here, isn't it?" Loki replied with a grin, then carried her over to the bed.

-o0o-

Natasha squinted against the sunlight as Loki's new room slowly settled into focus around her. The morning light filtering through the gaps in the curtains painted golden bars on the bed and carpet, mingling with the green, giving her the feeling that she had just woken in the clearing of an enchanted forest; there was definitely something magical about it. And there had been something magical about last night. Snapshots of memory slowly returned to her... Loki had proven to be a surprisingly tender and considerate lover... But there had also been moments of fierceness and passion, when there was something animalistic about their movements... When she closed her eyes she heard her heartbeat in her ears like a rhythmic, ritualistic drumbeat and she saw him holding her against the wall above his bed, with her arms crossed over her head, his hungry, green eyes burning into hers...

"Good morning."

Dragged from her reverie, Natasha looked up to see Loki peering down at her. She shifted closer to him, laying her head on his chest, running a tentative toe up and down his ankle. "It is," she murmured, almost purring. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," he replied, kissing her forehead.

Natasha looked up at him again. Propping herself up on her elbow, her hand moved to his neck and she pulled his lips towards hers. They might have been kissing for hours, Natasha didn't know. She only knew that the golden bars had shifted further down the room when she finally pulled away.

"I think I'll take a shower," she said softly, and disentangled herself, reluctantly, from Loki and the bed sheets. She climbed out of bed and padded around to the bathroom. Stopping in the doorway, she turned back to Loki, still lying in the bed. "Well?" she said, holding out her hand to him. "Aren't you going to join me?"

-o0o-

As it was approaching ten-thirty when Natasha and Loki arrived in the tenth floor dining room, they thought everyone would be done with breakfast and they could have a quiet, relaxed breakfast of their own. They did not, however, take into account Tony Stark's burning desire to make the morning as awkward as possible for them. When the elevator doors slid open, they found Tony waiting for them at the table closest to the kitchen, with Pepper preparing coffee behind him. Natasha and Loki exchanged unnerved glances, but they knew there was no going back now.

"Morning!" Pepper greeted them with her usual chirp. "Can I get you guys anything?"

"Just coffee please," Natasha replied, taking a seat opposite Tony.

"Coffee will be fine, thank you," Loki echoed, sitting next to Natasha.

"So..." Tony began, grinning. "You kids have fun last night?"

"Tony!" Pepper warned from the kitchen, but Tony was only just getting warmed up. Natasha suspected he had a whole routine prepared especially for this occasion.

"What? I think they deserve to know that when I found Steve in here this morning he'd been flipping the same pancake for half an hour!"

Natasha groaned internally; Steve's room was directly below Loki's on the fourth floor... She hadn't thought about that. This feeling of mortification was becoming far too common for her liking... Maybe she should stab her knife into the table between Tony's fingers. Thoughts of her own horror were drowned out by thoughts of what on earth Loki must be thinking; she was used to such explicit joshing, but she was sure 'morning after' etiquette was a little different on Asgard...

"And Thor's room is next to yours," Tony continued, turning to Natasha. "How do you think the God of Thunder reacted to hearing you destroy his little brother's innocence?"

Natasha was reaching for her knife when Loki responded curtly: "I've been listening to my brother and half the maidens of Asgard for hundreds of years, so I would call it revenge."

Tony stared at Loki in shock, then his Cheshire cat grin reappeared. "I like you!" he said, waggling a finger at Loki. "Respect, brah!"

"Don't talk like that, Tony, you weren't born in the ghetto," Pepper said wearily, setting Natasha and Loki's coffee cups down in front them as she took a seat at Tony's side.

And then, to round it all off, the elevator chimed and Thor stepped out. He froze when he saw Natasha and Loki. "Ah... brother! Natasha!" he said, attempting enthusiasm whilst his cheeks coloured. "I... I trust you slept well?"

Natasha could feel the glee radiating from Tony in waves. "I'll get the popcorn!" he said under his breath, his grin only widening.

-o0o-

A sharp cry dragged Natasha from sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she turned her head to see Loki sitting bolt upright in the bed. "Loki?" she gasped, pulling herself up on the pillows and flicking on the bedside lamp.

Loki stared straight ahead, his chest heaving, and his whole body was drenched in sweat.

"Loki? What is it?" she asked urgently, rubbing his shoulder.

Loki slowly turned to her; the fear in his wide green eyes made her stomach jolt. "The Chitauri," he whispered. "They're coming _here_."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hey guys! Wow, I've been blown away by the responses to the last chapter – thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed! Now, I'm afraid to say the end is drawing near – we've got this chapter and another two to go. In light of this, I must recommend the song 'Starts With One' by Shiny Toy Guns – it's full of dramatic techno angst that seems to fit this fic perfectly, so please go give it a listen!**

Natasha pressed the cool flannel to Loki's forehead. He was stoically refusing to make eye-contact with her, and she knew he was far from happy about finding himself back in his old hospital bed in Bruce's lab.

Bruce removed the dark blue cuff from Loki's arm with a sigh. "Your blood pressure's through the roof," he said quietly. "I think you just had a panic attack."

"No!" Loki growled, making Natasha flinch. "The Chitauri are returning to Earth, you must believe me!"

"But you've been having these dreams for weeks," Tony put in from the floor. "And nothing has ever come of them."

The Avengers had assembled, half-asleep and bleary-eyed, in the lab and Natasha could tell they were all highly sceptical, and made all the more irritable by the early hour. Pepper, the only one not in pyjamas, was also the only one who looked genuinely concerned.

"I know that," Loki said slowly. "But the dreams have been different this past week... The Other has found a way inside my mind."

"_The Other_?" Steve murmured.

"The leader of the Chitauri," Loki explained. "He was their true master, not I. He survived the missile and... saw that I was thoroughly punished for my mistakes."

A shiver ran through the group; Natasha knew they were all remembering the night they had picked Loki up from the New Mexico desert. She fought against the gruesome mental images.

"OK, so let's say the Chitauri _are_ coming..." Tony began, fiddling with the cord of his red paisley dressing gown. "How many are we talking? You know what we're up against?"

"The Other will come with their four remaining warriors and maybe two dozen foot soldiers."

Tony scoffed. "That's it? They can't take over the planet with that!"

Loki's face was almost white. "No, they can't. But they're not coming for Earth. They're coming for me."

There was a stunned silence followed by a murmur of unease.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked carefully.

"They're coming to kill me," Loki said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"But they had their shot months ago," Bruce said, his brow furrowed. "Why wait until now?"

"Because they're playing games," Loki replied, closing his eyes. "They sent me back to Earth because they knew you would find me. They knew you would offer your forgiveness..." He looked to Natasha for the first time. "... And that I would find peace."

"So now they're coming to shit all over that, are they?" Tony said dryly.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Loki answered. "They think my death will break you, so that..." Loki suddenly gasped, hunching over, his hands shot to his temples and he screwed up his eyes.

"Loki?" Natasha dropped the flannel, her hands grabbing his shoulders.

With a groan, Loki straightened up, wincing. "There... There's someone else," he breathed. "The Other is just another link in the chain of command..."

"Who is it?" Natasha whispered. "Who else is coming?"

"I don't know," Loki admitted. "But he's not coming with The Other... He's biding his time for... _something else_."

There was another uneasy silence, then Steve ventured warily: "Why is The Other giving you all this information? Isn't it just poor tactics to give your enemy warning?"

"It's all part of the game," Loki said bitterly. "An extension of my torture, to promise me death but not say how or when."

"So you don't know when they're coming?" Bruce murmured.

Loki shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Doesn't matter," Tony said gruffly. "Whenever these fuckers show up, we'll teach them a lesson they should've learnt the first time round."

"You will not stand alone, brother," Thor said firmly, speaking for the first time, and there were nods of agreement from the rest of the Avengers.

-o0o-

Despite protest from Bruce, Loki insisted he was well enough to return to his room, and everyone went back to their own beds. Natasha and Loki didn't say a word to each other as they headed back to the fifth floor. Once back in Loki's room, they slid into bed and wrapped their arms around each other. Everything they couldn't say, the tight, desperate embrace said it all. They lay, still and entwined, for the remaining hours of the night. Both knew the other was awake, but they stayed silent, their eyes open, not even trying to feign sleep. Dawn brought glorious, golden sunlight tumbling into the room, but they shrank away from it; it was obscene and unwelcome. A sickly knot was tightening in Natasha's stomach and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was teetering on the edge of the end of the world.

-o0o-

"Tony told me he'd left something for you in here," Natasha said, as she let her and Loki into the basement training room.

It was roughly half the size of a high school gym. The lower half of the walls were covered in white padding and the upper half were made of mirrors, so that the place felt like a cross between a ballet studio and a rather roomy cell in a mental institution. Tony liked to make snide remarks about how much time Natasha spent in there.

It had been a long day of tensions running high without a climax. No one knew what to do with themselves and they all wandered around Stark Tower, hardly acknowledging each other, as quiet as ghosts. Tony had locked himself in his lab, and Natasha was about to show Loki the result. Loki had suggested he and Natasha train together so he could 'reacquaint' himself with battle, and she agreed it was a useful way to vent their frustration.

"Here it is." Natasha led Loki to a table in the corner of the room. On it lay something long and slender, wrapped in a light green cloth which bore the typical scorch marks and oil stains of Tony's lab. Natasha nodded and Loki unwrapped the cloth with great care, as if opening the swaddling of a baby... and grinned. Inside lay a simple yet elegant golden spear, its razor-sharp point glinting in the light of the room.

"It's made from a titanium-iron alloy. Gold-plated but light-weight," Natasha explained. "It doesn't have many bells and whistles... Well, it doesn't actually have any... But I know you fight well with a spear."

"It's magnificent," Loki said, his eyes flashing with the gold of the spear.

"I asked Tony to make one for you this morning... The guy doesn't hang about," Natasha said wryly. "But before you get to play with your new toy, I'm gonna show you some of mine."

She set the leather case she'd been carrying down in front of them with a metallic _thunk_ and unrolled it across the table to reveal her collection of no less than twenty-five knives. They varied in shape and size; some had thin, straight blades like medieval daggers, others were curved and oriental-looking, and some had vicious, serrated edges. Although Natasha cleaned and serviced them regularly, some bore more signs of wear and tear than others and this collection had clearly been ongoing for several years.

"Impressive," Loki commented slyly.

Natasha looked to the cardboard cut-out of a man at the other end of the room; there was a red and black target rippling out from his chest. "Take your pick, and impress me," she said, as Loki followed her gaze.

She expected him to select one or two knives, but instead he took two serrated knives in one hand and another two with thick, straight blades in the other. Before she had time to question him, Loki swung his arm in one graceful motion; the serrated knives flew from his hand, swift as arrows, and then, separating out, wedged into the outstretched palms of the cardboard target. Natasha's mouth fell open as she stared at the target; the target stared back at her, a knife in each hand.

Without giving her time to comment, Loki swung his other arm, mirroring his previous movement, and this time the knives separated out vertically; one stabbed the target between the eyes and the other lodged at the very centre of the target's chest. Natasha could do nothing but gape like a goldfish.

"Well?" Loki asked, clearly satisfied with himself.

"Erm... You scrape a pass," Natasha grinned. "Let's move on... hand to hand combat. Grab your spear."

Loki did as he was told. Picking up the spear, he took a moment to admire it again, then got a comfortable grip. He moved to join Natasha on the mats laid out on the floor. She pulled two knives from her belt, holding one in each hand, she twirled them around her fingers as if they were nothing more than fifty cent pieces.

"Come on then," she said, with a goading smile. She began to pace in a circle around the mat, Loki followed her movements, but didn't strike.

"I... I don't want to hurt you," he said softly.

"You won't."

After another long moment, Loki abruptly stopped pacing. Grabbing his spear in one hand, he made to stab it into Natasha's chest, but she was ready for it and blocked him with her two knives crossed in front of her face. The room echoed with the scraping of metal on metal.

"Good!" Natasha said, with a laugh. "Now, again!"

And so they went at each other, again and again, and the room was filled with the sound of silver blades clashing against the golden spear. They found that they moved in sync, as if choreographed, the telepathy between them stronger than ever. Though this meant they both found it difficult to gain the upper hand as they were so attuned to each other. They worked their way across the mats, their movements becoming bolder. Natasha went to twirl around, but Loki caught her mid-spin when she had her back to him; holding his spear with both hands like a bar, he threw his arms over her head and pressed the shaft of the spear under her chin.

"Got you," he whispered in her ear.

"If this were real, I'd put my boot between your legs and break your nose," Natasha replied. "But I happen to have a soft spot for your face and your..."

She drew her knives up either side of her neck in the gap between Loki and his spear, and in one jerky movement, she yanked it from his hands; it clattered to the mat in front of them. Grasping her knives in one hand, Natasha picked up Loki's spear with the other and tutted. "Typical man. What lies between your legs is such a _distraction_." She handed the spear back to Loki.

"We'll see," Loki said, smiling dangerously.

"Is that a threat?" Natasha asked coyly.

"Maybe." Loki suddenly lunged towards her, his spear raised in one hand, but Natasha dodged out of the way and the spear stabbed into the mat. In his split second of panic, Natasha curled her leg around his ankle and dragged his feet from under him; he slammed down onto the mat, flat on his stomach.

"You were saying?" Natasha said innocently, as Loki let out a groan. She helped him up, feeling a little guilty. "OK, let's try some proper sparring... No weapons."

She dropped her knives onto the mat. The spear was still sticking up like a javelin; Loki yanked it from the mat and lay it down next to the knives. This time Natasha made the first move; she aimed a blow at Loki's chest, but his forearm came out of nowhere, blocking her with a crack. The synchronisation returned; strike and block, as rhythmic as dancing.

But then Natasha let her guard slip just long enough for Loki to twist himself behind her again; he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her neck. She was lifting her leg to stamp on his foot when his arms vanished, outlined in smoke, and her foot smacked down onto the mat. Loki reappeared in front of her, and before she had time to register this, he was lifting her off her feet and flinging her over his shoulder as if she were no heavier than a leaf. The world span upside down as Natasha was slammed down onto her back behind Loki, and she lay on the mat, thoroughly winded. Closing her eyes, she managed a moan.

"Natasha?" Loki's voice was strained.

"I'm fine," Natasha said, with another moan. Opening her eyes, she found Loki's face studying her, upside down, as he knelt by her head, his hands flat on the mat, either side of her face. "But you cheated. No weapons meant _no _magic!"

"Sorry," Loki whispered, a smile lurking behind his contrition.

Natasha stretched her aching limbs, then reached up to cup Loki's face, her thumbs brushing his cheek bones, her fingertips at his chin. "We'll be OK," she said quietly, but even as she said it, the knot in her stomach returned. The training had been a good distraction, but now the sickly, tense feelings were flooding back... and the sense of foreboding was stronger than ever.

"We will be OK," Loki echoed.

Natasha wasn't sure if he'd registered the slip in her expression, but still he leaned down, a few strands of his dark hair falling into her face, and kissed her lips.

-o0o-

Even before she opened her eyes, Natasha could sense something was wrong. She sleepily reached out to her side, but her fingertips met nothing, no one, only the cool mattress. This jolted her fully awake and she sat up, her heart hammering against her ribs. Loki was gone. In a panic, she peered around the room which was bathed in the golden grey light of dawn, until her eyes came to rest on Loki's pillow and her stomach twisted; he'd left a note. Snatching up the piece of paper, she recognised Loki's elegant script: _Just needed some fresh air_. She let out a sigh of relief; she knew where he'd gone.

Climbing out of bed, she had no thoughts of getting dressed; she slipped on her black satin kimono over her tank top and shorts, then headed out into the corridor. Stepping into the elevator, she hit '16': Tony and Pepper's penthouse suite. More relief came when she found the suite's lounge empty. She crept past the bar to the automatic doors which let her out onto the rooftop terrace. Sure enough, she found Loki sitting on the low wall at the very edge of the roof, looking out onto Manhattan, like some dark, beautiful gargoyle. She wandered over to him, her feet arching against the cold stone paving, and joined him on the wall, sitting cross-legged at his side.

He didn't react to her presence, but she was sure he knew she was there. She followed his gaze over to the east where the sun was rising, leaving a violent red line on the horizon like a blood smear. The red filtered out into a scorching orange, then a hazy yellow which was met by the dark blue of the retreating night. Natasha could see why he'd chosen such a spot to get some air.

"You know, some of us can't teleport up here," she said softly. "Some of us have to sneak through Tony and Pepper's lounge."

"Pepper is aware that I'm out here," Loki replied, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. "But she has a gift for subtlety and tact."

They were silent for a long time until Natasha murmured: "You're not going to jump, are you?"

"No," Loki answered, his eyes flitted to her, then quickly looked away, but it was enough to betray him. Natasha had learnt to make the telepathy work both ways.

"No, Loki!" she said, her voice rising. "I am _not_ letting you go to them alone!"

"I told you I would die for you," Loki said, turning to her, his eyes flashing black. "And I will, Natasha."

"Loki, listen to me!" She grabbed his face in her hands. "Even if you willingly give yourself up... Even if you let them kill you... They will be back for me! You said so yourself, something else is coming... Your death won't stop that!"

Tears shone in Loki's eyes and he placed a hand over Natasha's. "I'm so sorry, Natasha... I... I've given you a death sentence." A tear dribbled down his cheek as his voice cracked. "And I don't know how to stop it!"

Natasha pulled his face towards hers so that their foreheads were touching. She felt her own tears prickling in her eyes as she fixed Loki with a smouldering gaze. "If I die, then I die," she said fiercely. "But I will never regret a single second I have spent with you!"

Their lips met with such force and fire, they rivalled the sunrise burning behind them. Natasha kept her hands pressed against Loki's face, clinging to him as if to life itself. But suddenly Loki pulled away with a cry, his face contorted in pain, and his hands clasped his head like they had done the previous night in the lab.

"Loki! Loki, what is it?" Natasha gasped, trying to pull his hands away.

But her answer came in the form of Tony, who burst through the terrace doors shouting: "The Chitauri have been spotted on the other side of Brooklyn! ...They're waiting for us."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hey guys! So here it is, the penultimate chapter, just one more to go after this. Gosh, I'm getting teary – what on earth am I going to do with my life once this is over? Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited, and I hope you enjoy this!**

**WARNING: There's going to be a bit of guts and gore in this one, but what can I say? Natasha is a BAMF!**

Natasha tried to focus on the flashing lights of the jet's control panel in front of her as she put on her headset. The knot in her stomach twisted; it was becoming painful as well as sickly, and her chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. It was the ominous feeling she'd been unable to shake since it started, so she just stopped trying to shrug it off.

Tony plonked himself down into the seat next to her; he was fully suited up apart from his helmet, which was pulled up, away from his face. He started reaching towards the intercom panel, but Natasha stopped him: "Please, Tony, no soundtrack... and no pilot routine... not today."

Tony stared at her curiously, but withdrew his hands. "Sure, kid, whatever you say." His gaze lingered on her, filled with obvious concern, but she didn't want to explain the ache in her stomach, or her feelings of dread...

She swivelled around in her chair. Steve and Bruce were strapping themselves in at one side of the jet. Bruce was the only one not suited up; exposed, as he was, his suit was yet to come and he clearly wasn't happy about that. He looked as bad as Natasha felt. He'd whispered to her as they boarded the jet: "I'm not used to intentionally taking the other guy out for a walk." Part of her hoped it wouldn't come to that, but she knew that hope was futile.

Loki and Thor were buckled up opposite Bruce and Steve, both in full armour. Mjolnir waited expectantly between Thor's feet and Loki was grasping his golden spear in one hand. Natasha realised she hadn't seen Loki in armour for months, and now she was glad of it; to feel he had an extra layer of protection. The curved, golden horns no longer represented spite and malice, but strength and security... and the hope that she wouldn't lose him again, but that thought made her feel an ache right at her very core. She cleared her throat, hoping to subdue the ache. "OK, are we all belted up?"

There were nods and affirmative murmurs. Loki caught her eye and gave her a comforting smile... She tried to return it, but feared it had twisted into a grimace. Turning back to the control panel, it became a full-on frown. Fortunately Tony didn't comment; he flicked a few overhead switches and the jet's engines roared into life. Natasha punched the co-ordinates for the outskirts of Brooklyn into her keypad and the jet began its taxiing.

As the hangar's ceiling gave way above them and the jet rose up into Manhattan, Natasha had an unnerving feeling of déjà vu; she thought back to her last flight on the jet, the night they went to get Loki... She saw herself sitting where Loki was now, talking through medical supplies with Bruce, feeling completely removed from their prospective patient. And now she was in love with him. She knew that, of course. She'd known for a while, and just daren't admit it to anyone. Not even herself. Her stomach suddenly jolted, with a sharp intake of breath she clutched at her abdomen, fearing she might actually throw up.

"You OK?" Tony whispered, giving her a sideways glance.

"I'm fine," she murmured, sneaking a look behind her to check Loki hadn't heard, but he was talking quietly with Thor.

This didn't go unnoticed by Tony. "He'll be OK," Tony said, looking straight ahead. "You will be too. This will all be over by breakfast."

Natasha didn't answer. Tony clearly saw this as a minor inconvenience to his daily routine. She wished she had his faith. The journey to Brooklyn, though it felt like an age, only took a matter of minutes. They found themselves, with the sunrise behind them, descending onto a dusty, barren wasteland about the size of two football pitches, which was surrounded by deserted, concrete housing blocks.

"What a dump," Tony muttered, voicing what everyone was thinking.

"I was the one with a penchant for spectacle, not the Chitauri," Loki explained softly. "They don't care for glamorous battlegrounds... And the only audience they want is you."

This made Natasha's blood run cold, and she visibly shuddered. Everyone unclipped their belts and straightened up, conducting a final check of their weapons. Tony hit a button and the jet's rear doors slowly began to open with a mechanical groan. Tony and Steve moved towards them first. Natasha looked to Loki and pain exploded in her chest, sending shivers down her spine; in that moment she knew at least one of them wouldn't make it back onto the jet alive. God knows how she knew, but she felt it, from the pit of her stomach to the tips of her fingers, she felt it, and she realised she'd felt it ever since Loki cried out in his sleep.

Without thinking about the consequences or their audience, she rushed to Loki. Grabbing hold of the leather collar protruding from his armour, she pulled him towards her so that their faces were only an inch or so apart. With a desperate fire burning in her blue-green eyes, she whispered: "I love you."

Loki stared at her, his eyes searching her face, a look of concern and confusion marring his pale features. But then he broke into a smile. "I love you too." His voice was low, but firm. Hooking a finger under Natasha's chin, he kissed her, softly and tenderly. Pulling away, he fixed her with a determined, resolute gaze. "But today is not your day to die."

Natasha had no breath left to ask how he could possibly promise that, but she didn't care. She had told him, and now he knew. She just needed him to know. A loud cough from Tony broke them apart. She waited for him to make a sarcastic comment... but he stayed silent, his expression grave. He then turned and led the way through the doors, out into the wasteland. The Avengers followed him, with Natasha and Loki bringing up the rear... and they found the Chitauri waiting for them.

They were standing about fifty yards from the jet. The Other, a dark, cloaked figure, stood at the centre of their front line, flanked on either side by two Chitauri warriors. At least sixty foot soldiers – a lot more than they were expecting – stood behind them. Their dull, dark gold armour glinted in the rising sun's rays, but this did not detract from their grey, scaly skin and dead eyes – there was no doubt that these were creatures consumed by darkness. They clutched at their weapons with grunts and growls, their cold eyes darting from The Other to the Avengers, like horses stamping in their stalls, they were raring to go and baying for blood.

Loki moved to the front of the group and the Avengers formed an opposing line; Thor and Natasha stood either side of Loki, with Steve and Bruce to Natasha's left and Tony to Thor's right. After a few long moments of suffocating silence, The Other moved forward, entering the no man's land between their lines. Natasha snatched her gun from the holster at her hip and, grasping it tightly in both hands, levelled it at The Other's head. Tony took a step forward, his right arm stretched out with the blue light in his palm focused on The Other.

In response The Other only laughed - a deep, sadistic, throaty cackle - baring his jagged, bloody teeth, the rest of his face still hidden in shadow. He stopped about twenty yards from them, standing opposite Loki. Although she couldn't see The Other's eyes, Natasha was sure they were narrowed at him.

"Oh, Asgardian." His voice was harsh and commanding; it reminded Natasha of broken glass. "How the mighty have fallen. Defeated, allied with your enemies, reliant upon human technology to keep you alive... And so desperate to protect the Earth and its race of pathetic, lower life forms... You have become your brother."

Loki looked to Thor, then back at The Other. "Good," he said simply. "I am much better for it."

"_Better_?" The Other let out another sinister cackle. "No. You are both spoilt, ungrateful children of Asgard who can never change what you truly are." He looked to Bruce, then his gaze swept down the line to Tony. "And you, defenders of Earth? How can you stand beside this fallen god who murdered one of your own in cold blood, who murdered your people, and tried to enslave your planet?"

Loki paled at The Other's words, and his eyes flickered to the floor. Natasha didn't know where she found the words to answer The Other, but still she heard herself saying: "Because we're human." She kept her gun pointed, unwavering, at The Other's head as he turned to her. "We have mercy and know how to forgive. We believe in redemption – something I doubt you'd understand."

The Other laughed again, the cackle becoming a booming guffaw, which was echoed by the Chitauri behind him in a disturbing titter. "You, woman, yes, we know who you are. Do you really believe that he loves you? Do you believe that this despicable creature, so full of hatred, is capable of loving you?"

Natasha turned her gaze from The Other to Loki; he was already looking at her, and as their eyes met she answered, loudly and clearly: "Yes."

Another laugh from the Chitauri leader. But Tony cut in before he could speak: "OK, let's dispense with the pleasantries, shall we? I've got stuff to do today."

The Other snapped his head in Tony's direction with a guttural snarl. "So arrogant and self-assured," he spat. "Tell me, what makes you think you could possibly win this fight, when we know every single, intimate detail about every one of you?" He turned to Natasha. "We know the spider convinces her enemy she fights better with her right hand, when really she wields a blade better with her left, and when the enemy realise this, it is too late." Natasha lowered her gun in shock, but before she could respond The Other looked to Tony. "And we know, man of metal, what improvements you have made to your armour since out last encounter, and we know what is still malfunctioning."

Natasha stared at The Other, raising her gun once again, tightening her grip on it to stop her fingers trembling. How had they got all this information? Even if The Other could see into Loki's mind, she'd never told him about the secret strength of her left hand and it was a party trick she hadn't pulled out during their sparring session.

Before anyone dared ask, The Other spoke again: "You see, what information we could not extract from the Asgardian by snapping his fingers like twigs, we received willingly from another source with a newfound hatred."

_Clint_. Natasha's heart dropped into her stomach. She knew she was right even before The Other continued: "We found the archer quite easily. He gave us the information on the condition that we kill the Asgardian and harm no one else. Such a stupid boy, blinded by jealousy, he believed we did not intend to use it to a greater advantage. He should have known better than to bargain with the Chitauri. We do not want anyone to stand in our way when Thanos eventually makes his move on Earth. So we shall slaughter you all here then kill the archer in his Amazonian nest."

Natasha's heart was throwing itself against her ribs like a battering ram and each breath got caught in her throat. As the adrenaline surged through her veins, so many sickening thoughts flashed like lightning in her mind... Clint had betrayed them all... Had he really been stupid enough to believe the Chitauri wouldn't kill them once they had their information? ... Or would he have done anything to ensure Loki's death? ... And The Other had lied to Loki, planting false ideas in his head... They were never coming for him alone, they were coming for all of them... Because something else was coming... Thanos, whoever he was, was coming...

"You told me you were here for me!" Loki said through gritted teeth. "I'm the one you want. So kill me and spare the others!"

"Desperate to sacrifice yourself, Asgardian?" The Other sneered. "How sentimental. But for the God of Lies you are unbelievably naive where the lies of others are concerned... Now will you turn on your old army?"

"They were never my army," Loki said darkly.

"Well, you are right about that." The Other turned to his legion of Chitauri and, raising his staff above his head, roared: "KILL THEM ALL!"

At his command, with shrieks and snarls like a pack of rabid dogs, the Chitauri charged towards the Avengers. Natasha pulled her second gun from its holster and aimed for one of the approaching warriors; she took him out with alternate shots to his neck, shoulder, and thigh. It took six bullets to bring him down, but he eventually slumped into the dust. She turned her attention to the rest of the foot soldiers, spraying bullets into their ranks. Thor and Tony quite literally flew into the fray and she saw flashes of red and gold amongst the mass of grey. Loki followed after Thor, cutting through the Chitauri with his spear as if they were nothing more than garden weeds, until he joined his brother at the heart of the fight.

An almighty roar told Natasha that Bruce had got angry. One shot felled the Chitauri soldier closing in on her and bought her enough time to look behind her and see the enormous, green fighting machine that was the Hulk, stamping his fists into the ground like an enraged gorilla. Steve ordered him into the mêlée with a cry of "Hulk, SMASH!", and he leapt on the nearest Chitauri with delighted vigour, the Captain following his lead.

Unearthly screeches made Natasha turn and she found the Chitauri were no longer at a safe shooting distance. Slamming her guns into their holsters, she pulled out two knives; a serrated blade in her left hand and a straight, thick blade in her right. A foot soldier lunged towards her, his own blade raised to attack, but she plunged one knife into his exposed, grey stomach and ripped it up through his ribcage, dragging out his entrails, and slit his throat with the other, splattering thick, black blood across her face.

She was wiping her cheek with her sleeve when another soldier closed in on her; he hardly had time to raise his weapon before she stabbed her knife up through his chin. Wrenching it back out, she dislocated his jaw, and he dropped down, dead. This time she didn't wipe away the blood. Realising she had found herself on the edge of the fight, her eyes desperately sought out Loki and she saw him, at the eye of the Chitauri storm, fighting shoulder to shoulder with Thor. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before a wave of Chitauri rose up between them. Tony was mounting an aerial attack, swooping down on any stranglers from the affray. The Hulk and Steve were ploughing their way around the outer-circle, decimating the Chitauri's numbers. The Other was nowhere in sight.

Determined to join Loki and Thor, Natasha sprinted towards the chaos, but three foot soldiers spun around and went to meet her. She dodged the blasts from their guns with such agility and speed that it momentarily panicked them; in that panic she reached them and dug her knives into the scaly abdomens of two and kicked the one they flanked between the legs. He buckled and fell to his knees. What do you know, Natasha thought, as she dragged her knives from his companions, the Chitauri do have something down there. She stabbed her knife into the groaning soldier's neck and put him out of his misery.

A shot from a Chitauri gun suddenly scorched the edge of her boot, fraying the leather. She turned to see a soldier had locked onto her. Expertly eluding his blasts, she put one knife between her teeth, the black Chitauri blood as foul as acid on her tongue, and grabbed her gun. She sent bullets flying at this new assailant, but she couldn't penetrate his armour or hit any exposed flesh. Changing tactics, she holstered her gun, took up her knife again and galloped towards the soldier, zig-zagging to avoid his bombardment. She leapt on him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and sank her knives into his eyes; a blade for each socket. Dropping his weapon, the soldier crumpled beneath her, and Natasha scrambled off him.

Doing a quick sweep of the scene, she saw the Hulk aiding Tony with the destruction of survivors who crawled away from the main fight. Steve had joined Thor at the nucleus of the now drastically thinning army, where Thor was beating a soldier into the dust with his hammer the way a blacksmith forges a sword... But Loki was nowhere to be seen.

Natasha's eyes were frantically searching the crowd for a flash of green and gold when she heard Loki cry out behind her. She spun around and saw him on the floor, flat on his back with his eyes closed; his helmet had been knocked away and the gash on his forehead was ripped open once more. The Other stood over him, Loki's golden spear in his hand, pointed at Loki's throat.

"Loki!" Natasha made to run towards him, when a horrific, paralysing pain shot down the left side of her body, as if it had been set on fire. Whipping her head to the side, she saw a Chitauri soldier had stabbed his blade down into her left shoulder, right up to its hilt. He wrenched it back out, dripping red, and it felt as if he had dragged all her insides out with it. Crippled by the unbearable, burning pain and having no breath left in her, Natasha collapsed onto her knees. As she twisted back towards Loki the world fell silent, like her eardrums had burst, and all was a close, muffled static.

Loki's eyes suddenly fluttered open and found Natasha's; they widened in horror, and she saw her name forming on his lips... She tried, in vain, to reply, but then everything dissolved into black.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Here it is! The FINAL instalment, but I'll save the acceptance speech-esque author's note for the end of the chapter!**

She fanned out her fingers like a bird spreading its wing. The wheat came up to her hips and as she followed the narrow, dusty dirt track through the field she held out her hand, letting the golden heads of wheat brush against her palm, as soft as a whisper against an ear. All she could see was wheat on the horizon, and it spread out from her at every angle, broken only by an archipelago of dark green islands of trees amidst the gold. She wondered if this field of wheat covered the whole world. The sky above her was a cloudless, oceanic blue and the sun was bright, but didn't burn. Somewhere a Mistle Thrush was singing.

There was something so familiar about the place; she knew she had been here before. A sharp flutter of wings startled her and she spun around to see an arrow of black thrushes rising up from the island of trees behind her. Turning back to the track, she froze. Sam was standing in front of her, his dark brown eyes soft and solemn. His sandy-coloured uniform hadn't a scratch on it and his lightly tanned face was without a scar. He looked just the way he had done the first time he had shown up for duty in Kabul.

"Sam?" she murmured; her voice sounded distant, as if it had come from someone else, standing far away. Sam gave her a sad, knowing smile in reply. And suddenly she knew where she was: St Juire, a small, rural village tucked away in a forgotten corner of France. She had come here on her first S.H.I.E.L.D. mission after Sam's death when they were ambushing some arms dealers in La Rochelle. After the job was done, she had found herself wandering in this wheat field, far from the city, so she could be alone with her grief. And here she was again, in limbo, halfway between New York and Kabul.

She opened her mouth to question Sam further but his eyes darted behind her, and stayed fixed, looking over her shoulder. She turned around, following his gaze, and her heart jolted. Loki stood in the middle of the dirt track. His armour gone, his green tunic and pants were as spotless as Sam's uniform, and the gash over his eyebrow had vanished, leaving his forehead perfectly pale.

"Loki?" she breathed; the god's green eyes locked on her, shining with tears.

"Come back to me, Natasha," he said, his voice so full of pain it was almost a whimper. She was shocked to hear her own name; it was as if she'd forgotten it. "Please... Please come back to me!"

She rushed to him and reached up to cradle his face in her hands. "I'm here!" she cried, her voice once again sounding removed from herself, echoing across the wheat. "Loki, I'm here!"

Loki seemed to look right through her as the tears began to dribble down his cheeks. "Please, don't leave me," he begged. "Natasha, please...!"

She desperately tried to wipe away his tears with her thumbs. "Loki, look at me, I'm not leaving you!" Why couldn't she make him understand?

Suddenly the glare of the sun hit her eyes, burning right through them. With a cry she staggered back from Loki, squinting against the harsh white light, trying to shield her eyes with her hand. But the light was getting stronger, burning brighter; it was erasing everything until the sky and golden field were drained of colour and all was turning white...

Natasha lurched bolt upright in the bed, a scream stuck in her throat. The white light was everywhere, closing in on her. She peered frantically around as walls dissolved into view. There was something softer than wheat beneath her hands and she clutched at it manically, trying to discern what it was. She felt as if she were chained down; there were clear plastic tubes coiling around her left arm and wires tacked to her chest. She scratched at them, trying to pull them away, when strong hands suddenly grasped her own.

"No, don't touch that," came a soft, familiar voice, making her jump; she thought she was alone. She struggled in this assailant's grip, but he soothed her, pulling her close to his chest: "Natasha, it's alright! ... Look at me, it's Loki!"

_Loki!_ She pulled away from him, and looking down at his hands, followed the lines of his long, thin fingers up to his arms, his shoulders, and then his face; the cut on his forehead had been freshly sutured and his alert, green eyes were studying her with a strange look caught between panic and joy. The fog clouding her mind slowly dispersed and then it all came back to her... Brooklyn... the Chitauri... Loki lying in the dust with The Other standing over him... and... pain flooded her left shoulder as if the memory of it had set it on fire once more, but she ignored the burning ache and focused on Loki, sitting at her bedside, with his hands still firmly holding hers.

Carefully untangling their fingers, she reached up and took his face in her hands, like a blind man greeting a long lost son; her fingertips traced the contours of his cheekbones, checking it was really him... And it was. Her Loki. She breathed deeply, as if to confirm she still could and this wasn't a dream... Not that she cared if it was; Loki was with her, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter. "I... I thought I'd lost you," she choked out finally.

"I thought I had lost you," Loki replied, an edge of pain in his voice.

"No... I've come back to you," Natasha whispered slyly.

Loki peered at her with a curious expression, but didn't comment on it. He gently pulled her hands from his face and stood up. "You need to lie back down," he said, sounding nervous as he fluffed and rearranged her pillows. "Bruce will kill me if he thinks I've upset you... I'm, er, a little out of my depth with this medical lark." He helped Natasha lay back into her pillows and pulled the blankets back up to her shoulders.

"Bruce?" Natasha murmured, confused.

"You know where you are, don't you?" Loki asked quietly.

Natasha's stomach jolted as she recognised her faint reflection in the wall of glass in front of her. Looking to her right, she saw benches and stools – and a pair of familiar automatic doors. "Bruce's lab," she said, then, looking down, a smile crept to her lips. "In your bed."

"Well, I thought it only fair to let you borrow it," Loki said with a grin, then added in a more serious tone: "They took you to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters originally, but Bruce and I fought to have you moved to Stark Tower... for various reasons."

"How long have I been out of it?" Natasha said carefully; it could have been days or months, she found she had no sense of temporality and the warm edges of her wheat field dream still clung to her, giving her the feeling she had been drifting across time and space.

"Six days," Loki answered. "And I can tell you that six weeks being tortured by the Chitauri was nothing compared to the past six days."

As he said it, Natasha noticed that his face had taken on an ashen hue and there were dark grey circles chalked under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept for weeks... This was quite the role-reversal. But something else he'd said stuck in her mind: the Chitauri. "What happened?" she asked, her voice low; she knew she didn't have to elaborate.

"When you fell, I was certain you were dead," Loki replied, his tone heavy with the memory of it. "What I felt, seeing you lying there, unmoving on the ground... All the pain and the hatred, but above all, my love for you... It unlocked some ancient magic deep within me I didn't even know existed... And I blasted The Other into oblivion. Not even his ashes were left."

"And the Chitauri?"

"As soon as I killed The Other they tried to run, but we made sure there were no survivors."

The coldness in his voice told Natasha that in his mind he was returning to the battle and all the distraught emotions that went with it. She took his hand, trying to anchor him to the present. "But everyone else is OK?"

"Yes, you fared far worse than the rest of us, I'm afraid," Loki said, with a sad smile.

"I knew," Natasha whispered. "I knew something like this would happen. I felt it."

"I felt it too... Though I must admit I thought the injury would be mine."

"I guess the gods thought you'd had enough bad luck for one century," Natasha said wryly.

They were silent for a few moments as further pieces of the puzzle came together in Natasha's mind, and then she remembered something else. "Clint. Where is he?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. picked him up in Porto Velho five days ago and took him into custody," Loki said, obviously taking great pains to keep his tone neutral. "They brought him to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters... When they told him you were in a critical condition he broke everything in his holding cell, including the iron bedstead... It appears he genuinely believed the Chitauri wouldn't harm anyone else. He has learnt his lesson about trying to recruit the Chitauri as hitmen."

"Did he come to visit me?" Natasha asked, feeling a lump in her throat as she said it.

"No... But that's my doing. I told him if he set one foot in the hospital wing I would break every single bone in his body... It's part of the reason I wanted you moved to Stark Tower."

Natasha smiled weakly at the mental image of Loki sitting at the foot of her bed like a Rottweiler, but then looked, despondently, into her lap. "I'll never forgive him for what he did."

Loki didn't answer for a full minute, but then he said, calmly with some caution: "I understand why you think that... But I've done far worse things, and you've forgiven me. You believe in redemption, remember?"

"I think you hit your head too hard," Natasha said icily. "Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not defending him," Loki said simply. "But S.H.I.E.L.D. have given him a full warning and he's been refused mission clearance for the next five years. His beloved bow and arrows have been confiscated and he's going to spend half a decade behind a desk in some distant branch office... He'll be sufficiently punished." There was a twinkle in Loki's eyes.

Natasha stared at Loki, arching an eyebrow. "But wouldn't you rather have him dead?"

"Of course I would," Loki said matter-of-factly. "Every second I've spent at your bedside I've been picturing skewering him from one end to the other with my spear... But I, as I have been reliably informed, am beyond help. You, on the other hand, aren't so far gone."

Loki's cheery tone as he spoke of Clint's demise was bizarre, but infectious; she sensed his giddiness and joy at having her awake again. She remembered her own bedside vigil, waiting for him to wake up after his operation, and the relief she'd felt as soon as his eyes fluttered open. She knew now wasn't the time to be talking of Clint and other such landmine topics, so she pulled herself up in her pillows and leaned towards Loki with a grin, putting her hand on his neck... A cough stopped her in her tracks. Turning to her right she found Bruce standing in the lounge doorway, beaming.

"Bruce," she said warmly. She had the sudden urge to throw her arms around him, which wasn't an urge she felt all that often or for many people... She blamed Loki's glee and the cocktail of drugs her IV was pumping into her system.

Bruce came to her side and put a gentle hand on her arm. "Good to see you awake, Natasha," he said, still grinning. "You gave us quite a scare." He looked to Loki. "You both did. We thought we were going to get a real Romeo and Juliet ending. That Chitauri blade only missed your heart by a quarter of an inch." His eyes settled on her shoulder. "How's the pain?" When she was reluctant to answer, he added: "Don't make me slap your shoulder."

"It's sore," Natasha admitted, but that's all he was getting.

"Mind if I take another look?"

Natasha nodded and leaned back into her pillows. Bruce carefully peeled away the thick cotton dressing over her left shoulder. She looked down and was greeted by a vicious-looking, heavily stitched wound, about three inches long – it was puckered and red, like a mouth sewn shut.

"It's an impressive battle-scar," Bruce commented.

"For an impressive warrior," Loki said, with a grin. "You fought magnificently, Natasha. You gave Sif a run for her money."

"Not a great moment to bring up ex-girlfriends, Loki," Natasha said, wincing as Bruce repositioned the dressing, covering the wound once more.

"Look, we match!" Loki said awkwardly, clearly trying to cover for his last comment. He pulled his tunic collar away from his left shoulder to reveal the thin, pale pink scar from his operation.

Natasha gave him a rueful smile, but then her expression darkened; the final piece of the puzzle had just locked into place as The Other's words came back to her. "Thanos," she said, looking from Loki to Bruce. "Thanos is coming."

"Well, that's not for you to worry about now," Bruce said, attempting a comforting smile.

"No! Don't pull the 'just focus on yourself' patient crap on me, Bruce!" she snapped.

Bruce looked despairingly at Loki. "Yes, Thanos is coming," Loki said quietly. "It could be weeks, it could be years, but when he does make his move on Earth, the Avengers will be ready for him."

-o0o-

The pond was the colour of thunder and the more Natasha stared at it, the sicker she felt. Why did they have to choose _this _spot? She wasn't sure whether it was Loki or Thor's idea, but the sentiment made her stomach ache. She'd rather say goodbye in some dingy back alley full of trash cans and stray cats with a strong odour of stale urine; at least that would reflect how she felt more accurately. But no, they had chosen the pond in Central Park, just off 59th Street, as their place of departure. In a few moments they would call up into the retreating-summer sky and ask their father to bring them back to Asgard.

Natasha and Loki had argued endlessly about it; he could promise her he would return, but couldn't promise when. He and Thor needed to speak to Odin about enlisting the help of other Asgardians to rally with the Avengers when Thanos finally made an appearance. Loki intimated that this could take some time and he refused to set a date for his return. The final straw had been yesterday evening when he tried to pass on Jane Foster's contact details and she had screamed at him for attempting to set up a 'support group' for the mortal girlfriends of Asgardian demi-gods. Their fight escalated from there. She was sure their shouts could be heard by all the inhabitants of Stark Tower, and Manhattan for that matter, but everyone had retreated to their rooms to cower in their beds as if they were sitting out an air raid.

Since Bruce had given her the 'all-clear' to leave the lab, she and Loki had been staying in her room on the fourth floor. After she threw a knife at his head – she purposefully missed by an inch and blamed her healing shoulder – Loki stormed out. She sat on her bed for hours after he left, part of her waiting for him to come back, part of her praying he wouldn't. She knew she was being selfish and she knew why he had to leave, but she couldn't find the words to explain to him that the thought of his departure made her feel like she was bleeding inwardly.

Words failing her was not a foreign experience. So, in the early hours of the morning, she had crept to Loki's room on the fifth floor. He let her in and no words were needed. She kissed him with the same despair and desperation of their first kiss, the one they had shared an age ago in the lab, and he carried her to the bed, just as he had done the first night they spent together. Their tears mingled with sweat and their cries of desolation were swallowed by those of pleasure... And they made love as if it were their last night on Earth, because, for one of them at least, it was.

"It is time."

Thor's voice hatched Natasha from the memory, and the older Asgardian stepped forward, turning to face the leaving party. She looked to Loki, waiting at her side, but before she could say anything he moved to stand in front of Thor.

"This is where we say goodbye, brother," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

"What?" Thor gasped, and a murmur ran through the Avengers assembled in the park.

"I shan't be returning with you to Asgard, not this time." Loki glanced at Natasha, his green eyes shining with a spark of mischief.

"But Father has offered you a full pardon... Mother misses you... The people of Asgard have longed for your return!"

"They can wait," Loki replied, his gaze lingering on Natasha, making her heart gallop in her ribcage and her stomach squirm in disbelief. "This can't."

"But... But don't you want to come home, brother?" Thor whispered, his voice wavering.

Loki took a step back and reached for Natasha's hand. "I am home."

"I see," Thor said, giving them both a sad, but understanding smile. "Then, Natasha, you must promise me to take care of him. See he keeps out of trouble."

"I will," Natasha said, unable to stop the grin that leapt to her lips.

"Very well." Thor stepped forward and clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Farewell, little brother. We will meet again soon." And in the look he gave Loki, Natasha saw the memory of everything that had happened over the past few months dancing in the god's blue eyes; Loki's heart stopping on the jet... resetting Loki's fingers in Bruce's lab... the news in the boardroom... their talk by the pond... and fighting shoulder to shoulder with his brother at the heart of the Chitauri horde. Although she was unbelievably grateful that Loki was staying with her, she was sorry to see Thor go.

"Farewell, Thor," Loki said, also putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, and letting him kiss his forehead.

Thor then stepped back and looked up to the heavens. "Father! Conjure your magic, I am ready to return!"

The words had no sooner left Thor's mouth than a flash of multicoloured light, like an electric spectrum, shot down from the sky in a brilliant beam and enveloped him... And then he was gone. Everyone turned to Loki, including Natasha, who folded her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow. "So... When did you decide you weren't going back?"

"In the early hours of this morning," Loki replied sheepishly.

"And you waited until now to tell me?" Natasha cried.

"I told you I have a penchant for spectacle," Loki said, with a devilish grin.

"Well, you know what? So do I!"

And then, with a chorus of cheers from the rest of the Avengers (and a groan from Tony), Natasha leapt on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Loki's hands immediately shot out to support her and she placed her hands either side of his face, pulling his lips towards hers into a passionate, jubilant kiss.

**A/N: Wow... Well, I can't believe it's over. It's been quite the angst-ridden, rollercoaster of a journey, but I have enjoyed every single second of it! And I honestly cannot say thank you enough to every single person who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this fic. You know some of your reviews have actually brought tears to my eyes! **

**Now, I realise I have left myself wide open for a sequel, but I'm afraid to say I have no plans to write another multi-chapter story. I'm actually off to Australia in a few days to stay with my family over there for a month, and I always knew I needed to get this finished before I left. When I return I'll be heading into my final year at university, and I just don't think I'll have the time to write a longer fic.**

**HOWEVER! I am planning a collection of deleted and alternate scenes which I'll post as a separate story – wanna know how Loki and Natasha got their own back on Tony after the 'morning after' confrontation in the dining room? Or read the incredibly depressing alternate ending I had planned? This is also a call for REQUESTS! If there are any scenes you'd like to see in this collection – whether they're incidents mentioned in passing by characters or not – please either include them in your reviews or send me a PM! I'll be writing them whilst I'm in Australia and posting them just before I return to uni in October!**

**All there is left to say is another HUGE thank you to all of you. You've made my summer and made me ridiculously happy! **


	20. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

**Hey everyone, I've returned safely from Down Under and I had such an amazing time! On the flight over there we had a Greek air steward and, no word of a lie, he was called Thanos. I could not make this stuff up if I tried – much fangirling ensued! Now I'm pleased to announce that I've just posted Part One of the deleted scenes collection and you can find it here: s/8541643/1/How-the-Mighty-Have-Fallen-Deleted-Scenes Or, alternatively, if you go to my profile, you'll find it under the 'My stories' tab. Please do go and have a read – I had so much fun writing them! **


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